Demons and Lovers (or the Devil's Luck)
by Tipper
Summary: The boys return less than whole from a job in a nearby town, and emotions are running high. Things get worse when some bad guys decide to take advantage of an underprotected 4C. Mainly Ezra, Buck, JD and Inez
1. Part One -- Coming Home

Author: Tipper  
Title: Demons and Lovers (or the Devil's Luck) - The second title is more apt, but I posted this is parts on my website under the other name, and now can't change it. Silly me.  
Status: Complete in several parts.  
Disclaimer: Owned and created by MGM, John Watson, the Mirish Corporation and Trilogy Entertainment Group. Only borrowing them for fun, and no infringement intended. No money made, fair use and so on. Thank you.  
Notes: There are spoilers for Achilles and there is subtle reference to a previous story of mine - Adverse Possession - by Inez. That is posted here, somewhere, so if you'd like to read that first, that'd be cool. Anyways, other than that, this stands on its own.  
Description: The boys return battered and bruised from a job in a nearby town (Red Fork), and emotions are running high. Things go from bad to worse when a group of bad guys decide to take advantage of a underprotected Four Corners. Main characters: Ezra (big surprise there!), Buck, JD and Inez.  
  
Tell me what you think, please! Any and all feedback is greatly loved, appreciated and thoroughly needed!  
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Demons and Lovers (Or the Devil's Luck)  
  
Part One  
  
A hush fell over the tavern, causing Inez to look up from where she'd been reading the Clarion at the bar. Tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, she noted that the handful of townsfolk had moved to stand by the window, filling the room with an air of anticipation. With a sigh, she closed the paper and made her way over to the batwing doors, squinting a little into the brighter light of late afternoon. What she saw made her hiss in surprise, and her deep brown eyes widened.  
  
"Madre de Dios...."  
  
What had happened to them?   
  
About a week ago, the judge had wired for the Seven's help to protect a couple of witnesses in the town of Red Fork. The two young teenagers, both barely thirteen, had been unwitting observers of a wagon train massacre by a gang of rustlers and rogue Apaches, and had bravely come forward to testify after the gang was caught. Unfortunately, part of the gang had escaped from the marshals assigned to hold them and the Judge had been afraid they would return to seek vengeance not just on the two children, but on the town. From the looks of the men returning, the Judge had been right.  
  
JD rode in front, his face solemn, an unusual mantle of authority hanging on his shoulders as he led the others. Behind him, a little to the right, Buck rode his Gray, the gunslinger staring listlessly at the road, his mind clearly miles away. One arm hung in a sling, and his hat was missing.  
  
Behind them, Ezra was guiding a covered wagon, exhaustion lining his features, the dark circles under his eyes deeper than normal. To the back, Inez could see Chaucer, Quincy and Gideon following slowly, tied to wagon's side.  
  
Pushing open the doors, the manageress stepped outside, followed quickly by the others. Opposite, she saw Mary stepping forward off the boardwalk. JD pulled up near her in front of the jail, and motioned for the others to keep moving on to the clinic. They needed no prompting, and Buck didn't even look up as he passed. Ezra's eyes, however, glanced once towards the saloon as if looking for someone. When he caught her eyes, he smiled lightly in hello. She took another step forward, but he'd already moved past.  
  
She continued to watch the wagon move, seeing Josiah sitting on the back, one leg hung loosely over the side. The preacher wore a bandage around his head and a tourniquet around one thigh, but he seemed unaware of his injuries. Instead, he was watching whomever it was he was caring for inside the wagon. Inez frowned as she recognized the dark brown breeches of Nathan. The healer was lying down, unaware of the world around him.   
  
"Mr. Dunne, I'll take Hero if you like." Yosemite appeared as if from nowhere, reaching a hand up to JD. The young sheriff managed a smile, then dismounted slowly, as if aged by ten years.   
  
"Thanks my friend," he replied softly, handing the man the reins of his horse. The blacksmith nodded and headed back to his livery, the tired horse following without care. When he passed the wagon, he spoke up to Ezra, probably promising to take care of the three horses tied to the wagon. Ezra thanked him with a tip of his hat.   
  
Yosemite seemed to break the spell on the town at seeing the sad procession, and people quickly began to whisper and talk amongst themselves. Several approached JD, who was shaking travel dust out of his hat and running a hand through his shaggy hair. The one who spoke, though, was the town's unspoken leader....  
  
"JD?" Mary reached a hand out to touch his shoulder. "What happened?" It was the question on everyone's lips, and the young man sighed as he felt the curious crowd thicken around him. Mary bit her lip, "Where are Chris and Vin? And my father-in-law?"   
  
"They're fine, Mrs. Travis," the sheriff answered, his voice thick with exhaustion. "They're escorting Judge Travis over to Greeley, for another trial. They should be home day after tomorrow. As to what happened...that is a long story. Your father-in-law was right. The missing gang members recruited a bunch of outlaws to help break their friends out of jail. They were fast, Mary, and though we were on alert, they got past our defenses. Turned out they had the help of the deputy - who released the gang members in jail -- and the livery owner - who nearly killed all our horses when he lit the hostelry on fire. All hell broke loose, and though we managed to contain the fires, save the witnesses and the town..." he waved at the wagon, now parked in front of the clinic. Ezra had recruited some help in carrying Nathan upstairs, as both Josiah and Buck were in no condition to do more than just look on. JD looked back at Mary, "It came at a price. Nathan nearly died, and Josiah and Buck were hurt. Even the Judge got swiped in the arm." He grimaced as he saw Mary's eyes widen with worry, "No, no, he's fine. Just a graze...he was lucky."   
  
Mary nodded, closing her eyes briefly, and looked away in the direction of the clinic. She saw Lester Milton helping Josiah make his way up the clinic stairs, while Buck sat down at the base, rubbing his face with his hand.  
  
"Are they going to be alright?" she asked softly.  
  
"Yeah. Vin took care of the wounds, got 'em stitched up and all, and Ezra's been acting nursemaid since we left town. When Nathan was awake, he told Ezra how to make those foul smelling poultices of his, the ones that stave of infection. He did a good job with them. Nathan, Josiah and Buck're healing fine." He smiled, his show scuffing the ground, "You know, between Vin and Ez, I think we got another Nathan."   
  
"Will Ezra want some help?" Mary asked, still watching the clinic.  
  
"I know he will. He's being taking care of the boys this whole time. Took on that responsibility after he...," he stopped, and imitated one of Chris's expressions, pursing his lips. "Anyway, he needs a break."   
  
Mary patted him on the shoulder, "I'll get Sarah Weathers to help me tend the boys, JD. Don't you worry."  
  
He looked up at the jail in front of him, noting that Carl Weathers and Tom Mitchell were both standing by the door with rifles. He smiled.  
  
"You guys have any trouble?" the kid asked. The two men smiled back.  
  
"No sir, sheriff. Been nice and quiet," Carl chuckled, his rifle resting loosely on his shoulder.  
  
"Sure glad you're back, though," Tom added. "We got work needing getting back to at home."  
  
"Sure," the young sheriff waved a hand to tell them to go, then he let it fall. "No wait," he sighed again, and closed his eyes. "I'm real sorry, but you guys think you can last until night? I really need to get some sleep."   
  
Carl nodded, though Tom looked a little miffed. Still, both could easily see how bad off the younger man was. They told JD to get some rest, the jail would be there when he woke again in a few hours. With a grateful smile, the kid thanked them both and headed slowly off towards the boarding house. Upon his departure, the crowd dispersed, still whispering amongst themselves.  
  
Inez stood in front of the saloon a little while longer, still watching the clinic. She saw Mary stop off at the Potter's, then come back out with Sarah. Together the two women headed for the clinic, Sarah with a bundle of food under one arm. Inez hoped that meant Ezra could come home and get some sleep.   
  
She'd missed him.   
  
Not that he would ever notice - damn him. Blind as a bat and too much of a 'gentleman' to do more than unconsciously flirt with her because of Buck. Couldn't he see by now that she didn't want Buck? Stupid, stupid man.  
  
But a sweet one, when he let himself be.  
  
The sound of a wagon broke her reverie, and she looked over to see the supply wagon from Bitter Creek pulling up in front of the Potter's. The supplies she'd ordered from Mrs. Potter must have finally arrived, she thought lightly. Calling back inside the saloon to tell Seth she was fetching the supplies, she headed across to the mercantile.  
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Buck looked up, his eyes watching Inez as she made her way across the road. A smile lit upon his face when she looked over and nodded her head in his direction.   
  
"Hello to you too, senorita," he whispered. God, it was good to be home.   
  
Feeling slightly more chipper, he got to his feet and made his way over to the saloon. He needed the company of a happier folk for a while, and few folk made him happier than Inez, especially when she was rebuffing his charms. He'd win her someday, he knew. It was just a matter of time. Until then, he knew there would be some other warm bodies in the saloon to remind him of his continuing healthiness, broken arm or no.  
  
Adjusting the sling on his arm, he offered JD a salute as the kid walked past on his way to the boarding house.  
  
"Feeling better?" the kid asked, smiling at the cheeky expression on Buck's face. The younger man had missed that over the last few days. Buck flexed an eyebrow.  
  
"I forgot how good it was to be alive, kid," he grinned back, adding a little dance step to the movement. JD ducked his head, shaking it slightly. He knew exactly what Buck meant. It was good to be home.  
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Ezra finished explaining what to do for Josiah and Nathan, not noticing that Mary was barely paying attention. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she knew already - who did he think helped Nathan when they were hurt? But she could see the tight grip he had on the bed frame, preventing him from losing his fight with exhaustion. Off to the side, Sarah was checking on Josiah, who was snoring loudly on his cot.   
  
"Thank you, Mr. Standish. I'll come and get you if there is any change," the newspaper editor said, her tone placating. Ezra nodded, catching the tone. She wanted rid of him. He ducked his head, a sheepish grin on his face.  
  
"Thank you Mary, Sarah. I'll be in my room if you need me." He bowed slightly, and both woman offered slight smiles in return as he slipped out of the room.   
  
With a slightly dazed air, he navigated the steps out down from Nathan's clinic slowly, looking up at the warm spring day with a smile. A breeze tickled his skin, bringing with it the smell of fresh hay and smelting ore from Yosemite's livery as he headed across to the boardwalk. Thankfully, the man must have mucked it out recently. Ezra's grin widened; Chaucer would be happy. Perhaps he should go see him before going to his room. Leaning against a handy post, he lowered his head and closed his eyes, content for a moment simply to listen to the sounds of the town.  
  
He'd been standing on the boardwalk contemplating the idea of visiting Chaucer for a while before he heard the gentle clearing of someone's throat. He blinked his eyes open rapidly, startled to realize he'd nearly fallen asleep standing up. When they cleared, he found himself looking into the eyes of Inez. She adjusted the packages in her arms to a more comfortable position.  
  
"Senor?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Do you need me to take you home? You look like you should be lying down."  
  
"Why Inez," he replied, his face shining with innocence, "are you offering to take me to bed?" Dropping the façade, he proceeded to grin wolfishly. Inez narrowed her eyes, then stepped close to him.  
  
"In the state you're in, Ezra," she whispered, "you'd never keep up." She mimicked his grin.  
  
He laughed, unable to resist her smile. "My dear, you shame me." He looked at the heavy boxes in her arms, wondering how she managed to keep them balanced without completely tipping over. "Can I give you a hand?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think so," she replied. "You'd fall over if I gave you one of these. Some of these boxes contain replacement glasses for the saloon." She smiled, "And I don't relish having them broken in just yet."  
  
Ezra winced. "A terrible pun, Inez. But I assure you," he lifted off the top two boxes with a grunt, "I am more than capable." He was impressed, they were heavy.   
  
"You all right?" she asked. He just glared at her, then indicated with a nod that she lead the way.  
  
With a shrug, she readjusted her remaining package and turned away toward the saloon, the gambler on her heels.   
  
They both nodded to Seth as they walked in through the batwing doors, who returned the greeting absently. In the corner, Buck looked up from where he sat with Cherise, who was massaging his shoulders. Ezra nodded at him, but Buck could only respond with a dark glower. Though the ladies man knew that what had happened wasn't Ezra's fault, he couldn't stop being angry just yet. His irrational side was still in control. Then his mood became even blacker as he noticed the protective looks Inez was shooting at the gambler when he wasn't looking. His jaw tensed involuntarily. When had that happened?  
  
Inez waited as Ezra muscled the heavy storeroom door open with a shoulder, the thick wood scraping the floor with a painful squeal. Once open, it would remain stuck ajar until someone manhandled it closed again. The only bonus of it was that no one could break in without Inez or Seth hearing.   
  
Once inside the dank room, Ezra dumped his box on the central table and moved to light the candles. Inez put hers down opposite his and pulled a knife to cute away at the twine. Neither spoke as they ripped the boxes open and started to put bottles, cans and glasses away. Ezra stopped only once to admire the quality of the new mugs he'd been carrying, impressed by their weight and quality.   
  
"I got a deal," Inez said from where she was reaching up to place some cans on the top shelf. "A dozen for a dollar. Not bad, eh? You were getting half a dozen for the same, and those are better. Less likely to break."   
  
Ezra shook his head, once more impressed at how easily she could read his mind. With a sigh, he held the mug close to his body and leaned against the table. His mind drifting off to the time when he owned this saloon, albeit for only a short time, and then past to other matters. Soon, he was completely lost in his thoughts, their meanderings bringing him to the misery of the last week.  
  
Inez put the last can away and turned around. For a moment, she just stood and watched him, never having seen such an open look of pain on his face. Slowly, she made her way across, and reached her hand out slowly to lift the mug from his hands. He jumped slightly at her touch, then slumped his shoulders, his hands moving back to grip the edge of the table behind him. Gently, she placed the glass on the table, then allowed her fingers to drift over to rest on top of his hand.  
  
"What happened?" she whispered, hoping he'd lift his gaze from the floor to look at her. He didn't comply.  
  
"Nothing. I was only daydreaming."  
  
"No," she pressed a little harder on his hand. "I mean, what happened in Red Fork."  
  
He shook his head. "Inez, you don't want..."  
  
"Yes, I do. You need to talk about it." She touched a finger to his chin, lifting it. "Please. Let me help."   
  
Ezra's face crumpled, and he pulled away from her touch. "You can't help."  
  
"Not if you won't tell me."  
  
He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. "Fine. You want to know? Nathan...Nathan almost died, Inez," he swallowed. 'Nathan almost died and it was my fault."  
  
Instead of immediately dismissing that idea as foolish, which she knew would only cause him to turn away from her, she nodded. "How?"  
  
This time he did look at her, green eyes dark in the half-light of the storeroom. "It happened so quickly, I barely even recall how, only why...." He stopped, licking his lips and looked down at the floor again.  
  
"Nathan and I were assigned to protect the witnesses and the Judge. We were on the way to the grain exchange, where the trial was to be held, when the gunfire broke loose. I couldn't see the others who were supposed to be keeping an eye on us; I didn't know what had happened to them. It wasn't until later that I learned there had been a fire in the livery and the breakout at the jail. All I knew was that we had to get the two children and Judge Travis to some sort or cover. Then a lucky shot winged the Judge's shooting arm, knocking his rifle from his hand. Nathan yelled that he would cover us, to give me enough time to get the others away. I should never have agreed." He paused, and bit his bottom lip. Inez gripped his hand a little tighter.  
  
"I take it someone shot him," she said.  
  
"I had just gotten to cover when I saw him go down. But I couldn't get to him, Inez. I was the only one between the Judge and those children and the guns. I couldn't break cover to get to him, or they would have been unprotected. My God, but he looked at me from where he was on the ground, Inez, pleading for me to help him as he gripped his shoulder. Then that behemoth came." He shook slightly, spitting out the word behemoth with a heavy dose of acerbity.  
  
"Behemoth?"   
  
"Brute. Ugly, huge, and nasty. Nathan's height, and Josiah's girth. He came out of nowhere and picked up Nathan like a rag doll, shaking the poor man as a means to get rid of his anger. I tried to take a shot, but he put Nathan between himself and me, and then I had to keep firing in other directions as gang members started attacking from all sides. I couldn't cover them all, Inez. I had to make a choice....I couldn't help Nathan without....." He placed his free hand on his face, covering his eyes, and Inez frowned.   
  
She'd never seen him like this. Ezra and the other six were the most self-assured men she had ever met, even against impossible odds, and yet, here he was, admitting to her that, for a moment, he had been absolutely terrified. She crept a little closer, taking more of his hand in hers. He was shaking his head now, as if to clear it, lifting the hat off of his head to place it on the table. With his free hand, he ran it through his thick hair, rumpling it slightly.   
  
"Thank God for Buck," Ezra said suddenly, quietly. "He came charging like a bear out from the alleyway, knocking that ugly bastard off his feet. He saved Nathan's life, and sprained his shoulder in the process by throwing a man one and a half times his weight on his head," he chuckled. "Remind me never to get on Buck's bad side," he said, looking at her with a rueful grin. His smile fell before her unwavering gaze, wondering if he wasn't already part way there.   
  
Buck had barely spoken to him the whole way back, unable to hide the fact that he partially blamed him for Nathan's injuries. The others had all said they understood his actions, covering the lie by expressing no more feeling on the matter than they would a day at the lake, and even Nathan had forgiven him, telling him there was nothing to forgive. But Buck was not the type to forget so easily, or to hide his emotions as well as the others. It seemed clear to the gambler that the ladies man blamed him for Nathan almost as much as Ezra did himself. And for all their machinations, he knew the others felt the same. He'd seen the relief in Chris's shoulders when he and Vin had ridden away with the Judge, happy that they could forget about him for a week. Even Josiah had been less forthcoming. But what did he expect...Nathan was the preacher's best friend. Ezra didn't know what he was in the older man's eyes. Only JD and Nathan hadn't been cold, and Nathan only because he'd been asleep most of the time.   
  
Inez continued to watch him, and he was amazed to notice how clear her eyes seemed. He saw only understanding and trust in them, and it took his breath away somewhat. Swallowing, he covered his sudden discomfort, "In any case, Buck got Nathan to safety, and, not long after, the firing stopped as the rest of the gang was brought down."  
  
"So you saved those kids and the Judge?" she asked.  
  
"They weren't hurt, no," he said, looking away.  
  
"Then...then you saved those kids and the Judge," she repeated. He shook his head. Pressing her lips together in a determined expression, she stepped forward, moving her hand from his hand to his arm. Grabbing his chin in her other hand, she forced him to look her in the eye.  
  
"Ezra, listen to me. You saved the kids and the Judge. You did what you had to. Nathan did what he had to. You can't be everywhere at once. You know that. If you had broken cover to help Nathan, leaving those three innocents without protection, what would have happened?"  
  
Like a child refusing to admit the truth, he shrugged.  
  
"You know, Ezra. Can you honestly tell me they would have survived without you there? You had no choice. What happened was a terrible thing, but you had no choice."  
  
"Nathan nearly died, Inez. That man had him by the throat. If Buck hadn't been there..." He shut his eyes, and she loosed his chin to place her hand on his chest.   
  
"But Senor Wilmington was there. That was what he was supposed to be doing, yes? Making sure you and Nathan were protected as you, in turn, protected those children and the Judge? If it is anyone's fault, Ezra, it is his for not being there to cover you from the beginning."  
  
Ezra' eyes widened, and he frowned. "No, absolutely not! Don't you dare accuse Buck of doing something wrong! He couldn't be there."  
  
Inez tilted her head. She could feel his heart beating furiously beneath the vest. "You're right," she whispered. "He did nothing wrong. And neither did you, for the same reason. Do you see?"  
  
Ezra didn't answer, instead he just looked at her, unable to tear his eyes from hers. She looked at her hand on his chest, feeling the soft material of the brocade waistcoat under her fingers.  
  
"Ezra Standish, whether you know it or not, I know you. I knew you from the minute I walked in those doors over a year and a half ago. You think you are the only one who can read people, Senor? Believe me when I tell you, I have had many years to learn what an evil man, a selfish man, or a cowardly man looks like. I grew up around them, was beaten by them. Do you honestly think that I would have tried to become your partner if I had seen any of those qualities in you? I could have looked for work anywhere, but I chose you."  
  
When he didn't answer, she reached up to rest her hand gently on his face, brushing her fingers along his cheekbone, then up over his temple, brushing back a dark curl. "You are a good man, Ezra. The others, they know this. Even Buck. You'll see...I predict that, in a couple of days, when Senors Larabee and Tanner return, there will be no more uncertain looks. Deep down, they trust you, and their fear will pass. They know that what you did, you did because that was what was required. Don't believe for a second that, if you hadn't had the Judge and those witnesses to protect, that you wouldn't have taken that bullet for Nathan yourself, if you could have."  
  
"How can you be so sure," he asked.  
  
"Because...," she replied, looking up at him, her voice fading.  
  
She smiled, and leaned up to kiss him, ever so lightly, on the lips. The touch was feather light, and so soft that his lips tingled in the same way as if he'd just eaten too much sugar, or had touched absinthe to his lips. Instantly, he stiffened, backing up slightly, surprised.  
  
"Inez...." He stammered, his breathing becoming more rapid. "I....What about...."   
  
Twice in one day, she noted absently, twice I've seen him completely terrified.   
  
Gently, she reached up and rested her arms about his neck, allowing her hands to tickle lightly at the back of his hair.   
  
"Are you going to back away this time?" she murmured.  
  
After a moment, he shook his head. She smiled again, all coyness gone. Leaning forward, she once more brushed his lips with hers, taking in his scent. She could smell the pine and cedar soap he used to wash his face and hair, and the muskiness of the road on his clothes. Her fingers wrapped themselves more tightly in his hair, and she reveled in the warmth of his breath on her skin as he leaned over to kiss her back.  
  
Ezra closed his eyes and loosened his grip on the table, his hands wrapping themselves around her. With an almost furtive touch, he pulled her in close, allowing her to wrap her arms more securely about his neck. This kiss was harder, more desperate in feeling, and Inez could feel his arms trembling slightly as he held on to her.  
  
She parted her lips slightly, letting her tongue tickle his lips, inviting. He responded immediately, deepening the kiss, taking her mouth completely in his. Shivers ran down her spine, and she pressed herself closer, standing up on her toes to reach him better. Before long, he let her lips go, trailing kissed along her cheek and down her neck, nipping at her skin with his teeth and eliciting a slight moan from her. Grabbing his head in her hands, she drew him back, as if afraid to let him go, her movements more forceful as she took his lips in hers.   
  
Neither noticed the slight creak of the floorboards near the door as someone looked in on them, then disappeared.  
  
Finally, Ezra moved his head away, and he once more trailed kisses down her neck until he reached her bare shoulder. Then he simply stopped, resting his forehead on her burning skin, holding her tight, hugging her so closely she could barely breathe.   
  
For a long time, he just held her.   
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Buck's head was spinning. He'd gone to find them in the storeroom so that he could apologize to Ezra, to tell him that he had been wrong to be angry....  
  
That rat bastard.  
  
Sweeping back through the saloon, he barely glanced at Seth as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the bar, not caring that it belonged to someone else. Cherise stood up from the chair where she'd been waiting for him, her brown eyes bright with surprise as he walked past without looking at her. She looked over at Seth, who was busy trying to placate the man from whom Buck had stolen the bottle. He succeeded when he gave him another one.  
  
"Should I go after him?" Cherise asked timidly, brushing a light brown curl away from her face. Seth looked up, adjusting the glasses on his nose with a nervous air.  
  
"I don't know, Cherise," he said. "Maybe he just needs to get home to bed."  
  
She shrugged, "Well, I could help him with that...."  
  
"Sleep, Cherise. Home to sleep."  
  
"Oh," Cherise bit her lip, then looked past Seth to the backroom. She lowered her voice, "What do you think happened back there?" she asked.  
  
Seth furrowed his brow and pulled the cloth off his shoulder to start wiping down the bar. "None of our business, Cher."  
  
"Seth..."  
  
"No. I'm not going to go a guessing about other people. She wants to let us know, she'll let us know."  
  
Cherise frowned at him, and shook her head. "Maybe I should go after Buck...."  
  
"No, stay here and help me tonight. I get the feeling Miss Inez is going to be busy taking care of Mr. Standish for a while, and it's almost dinner time. Soon as the sun goes down, I'll be needing you."  
  
Cherise grimaced. "All right. But I don't like watching wounds fester, Seth. Buck needs people with him to heal properly, even if people is just me. If he's worse tomorrow, I'm blaming you." She grabbed the rag from his hand and walked off, planning on wiping down the tables and grabbing the empty mugs. Seth sighed and leaned over the bar.  
  
The man who'd had his whiskey stolen chuckled, and the bartender shot him a dirty look.  
  
"Seth?" Inez wandered in from around the corner, a couple of bottles of Red-Eye in her hands. "Something the matter?" she asked, setting the bottles under the bar and brushing a piece of dark hair behind her ear.  
  
The bartender blushed and shook his head. "No, ma'am. Just asking Cherise to help me. Thought you might be busy with Mr. Standish...." Inez narrowed her eyes slightly, not sure how to take that.   
  
"Ah, I see," she watched as Cherise attacked the tables, and smiled. "I take it she'd rather be with Buck."   
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Well, Senor Standish has gone up to his room to rest. I'm going to take him some dinner, and then I'll be back. Tell Cherise she can leave when I return, okay?"  
  
The bartender nodded, earning another dry chuckle from the man at the bar. Inez glanced at him, dismissed him as a drunk, then headed back into the kitchens. Seth sighed again.  
  
"Gotta love women, eh?" the drunk asked. "Take charge better than any man I've ever known, even when they're not supposed to." Seth didn't correct him, to tell him that Inez actually was in charge, just went to pull another rag to wipe down the bar.  
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When she got upstairs with the tray and knocked, no one answered at Ezra's door. Balancing it on one hip, she tried the doorknob, interested to notice it was open. Silently making her way inside, she found Ezra asleep on the bed in a rather odd position. He'd obviously meant to just sit on the bed and wait for her, but had succumbed to putting his head on the pillow, leaving him in a half sitting, half lying down position. He was still fully dressed, even his boots were still on.  
  
With a shake of her head, she placed the tray on the dresser, pushing aside the guns he'd lazily placed there, noting that his derringer was not among them. Quietly, she turned and made her way across to him, to pull off his boots. Once done, she stripped him of his jacket and waistcoat, which caused him to mumble something incoherent as he dug his head a bit deeper into the pillow. She looked at the derringer rig for a moment, before deciding to let him keep it on - she wasn't sure she could take it off anyhow. Finally, she tipped his feet up onto the bed so that he was lying down properly, then rolled him over to pull the covers down. Not long after, she had him tucked in, covers up to his chin, face firmly ensconced in the white pillowcase.  
  
"Sleep well, mi amor," she whispered, kissing his forehead. Brushing her fingers once more through his hair, she hung up his jacket and waistcoat, grabbed the tray, and left.  
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Cherise knocked on Buck's door, but, as Inez had with Ezra, she got no response. However, when she tried the doorknob, she found it locked.  
  
"Buck?" she called quietly. "Buck, are you okay?"  
  
No one answered. She thought she heard something shift inside the room, but then nothing,  
  
"Love, I know you're in there. Listen, I don't know what you saw that sent you storming off an hour ago so angrily, but Inez is back in the bar and she gave me the night off. If...If you need me, I'm here."  
  
She listened some more at the door, then rested her forehead against it.   
  
"Buck...I'm uh, I'll be at the bar, should you want to find me, okay? I won't leave, except to got to sleep, which I will do tonight on my own, just in case you change your mind." Sighing, she listened for another minute, then slowly made her way back outside.  
  
Inside the room, Buck took another swig of the whiskey in his hand and leaned against the headboard of his bed. Wiping a tired hand across his face, he wondered if he shouldn't take Cherise up on her offer, but decided against it. He wanted to wallow in misery tonight.  
  
Tomorrow he'd teach that son-of-a-bitch gambler a lesson in making moves on innocent women like Inez.  
______________________________  
  
Continued in Part Two...  



	2. Part Two -- Jealousy

Demons and Lovers (or The Devil's Luck)   
  
Part Two  
________________________________  
  
He came awake slowly, body rebelling at the mind's need to insure that all was well. Confusion marked his expression for a moment, as he felt the soft feel of a mattress beneath his cramped shoulders and light touch on his brow of someone's fingers. Then, with a sense of calm, he remembered the day before, remembered returning and having the town step in to take care of them, of Inez....  
  
Inez!  
  
Green eyes shot open with shock, and he twisted around to look at whoever was brushing the hair from his forehead. His mouth fell open stupidly as he found her sitting on his bed, fully dressed, her fingers lazily caressing his face. She trailed a finger lightly down his cheek, her lips twitching into a smile at seeing him awake.  
  
"Hi," she whispered.  
  
His eyes got a little wider. Had they...? "In..." he croaked, then coughed, bringing his right hand to his mouth. He stopped when he saw the derringer rig still on it, and the fact that he still had his shirt on. Thank God. Not that he really believed his dreams anyway.  
  
Nuts.  
  
"Shhh," she whispered, taking her hand away. "Here, I brought you some food, and I expect you to eat it, since you missed dinner earlier." She stood and wandered across to the dresser and the tray she had placed there this morning. Lifting it, she waited until he moved into a sitting position on the bed before coming to play the tray on his lap. He took the glass of water on the tray greedily, downing it in one gulp.  
  
"It's still night," she continued, watching as he drank the coffee on the tray more slowly. He was watching her warily. "It's only about an hour after midnight. But someone needs to stay at the clinic with Nathan and Josiah tonight, as both Sarah and Mary need to get home. Sarah's with child now," she smiled as Ezra broke into a large grin at the unexpected news, "and Mary's got her paper." Inez shrugged, indicating she thought the paper could stand one day of being late, but she knew Mary's priorities.   
  
He swallowed, still watching her. Throughout her whole speech, he'd only had one question on his mind, "Inez, yesterday, did we...?" He trailed off, his mind questioning whether kissing her had been a dream.  
  
"Did I kiss you?" she replied.  
  
"You kissed me?"  
  
"Well, you did kiss me back, I believe," she grinned, and his mouth fell open again. Then, just as suddenly, he grinned boyishly, and she laughed. Leaning forward over the tray on his lap, she kissed him lightly on the lips then stood.  
  
"You should get over to the clinic," she said.   
  
"Thank you Inez," he said, his tone expressing that he meant the words to encompass much more than simply waking him up and bringing him food. In response, she merely nodded.  
  
"Now, I want you to eat all of that," she said. "I want it empty when I come to clean it away." She pointed at the tray, and he grabbed her arm with his left hand, preventing her from leaving.  
  
"Will you go to dinner with me tonight?" he asked, a slight tremor of nervousness in his voice.  
  
She blinked, blushing slightly, and smiled. "The saloon..." she began.  
  
"Can survive one night without you," he insisted. "Please. Whatever you want."  
  
She pursed her lips, remembering the blue dress that she had seen arrive yesterday at the Potter's when her own supplies had come in. Mrs. Potter always kept a few loose dresses on hand, just in case, and this one had been particularly pretty. With a few adjustments by the new seamstress in town, Miss Meg, it could easily be ready....  
  
Finally, Inez nodded, then laughed as Ezra blew out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.   
  
"Wear your navy jacket," she said, gently lifting her arm from his grasp. "And be by to pick me up at six." She offered him one more smile before taking her leave. Ezra ached to go after her, to pull her to him again and let her kiss once again take away all the pain of the last week, but he wasn't sure he could trust himself to ever let her go.  
  
Still grinning stupidly, he attacked the food on the plate before him with a gusto reminiscent of Buck, not even caring that he was still extremely tired. He could sleep at the clinic.  
________________________________  
  
JD was rudely interrupted from a dreamless sleep by a hammering on his door, two hours after dawn had broken the horizon. Grimacing at sore muscles, he rubbed his right shoulder with his left hand as he moved to answer the door. Wrenching it open, he offered his best glare at whoever had the tenacity to wake him. Carl Weathers stood opposite him, dark eyes bright with worry, and JD instantly readjusted his expression to concern.  
  
"What is it?"   
  
"Trouble at the saloon. Couple of cowboys are bothering Inez."  
  
"Where's Ezra and Buck?"  
  
"Buck's still asleep in his room, I was going there next. Ezra's at the clinic. He relieved my Sarah there late last night." JD frowned at the news that Ezra probably still hadn't gotten any rest. Sighing, he nodded at Carl.  
  
"Okay, got get Buck, then Ezra," JD reached behind him to pull up the straps of his suspenders, having not bothered to pull his pants off last night, and went to grab his rifle in the corner. Grabbing the still very dusty jacket sitting next to it, he almost ran out of the door.  
  
Pushing out into the bright morning light, he jogged over to the saloon, quickly discerning the sounds of glass breaking and the yelling of an irate manageress. Tom Mitchell stood out front, hands gripping his rifle in a white knuckled grip, clearly waiting for JD to arrive.  
  
"When Inez opened the storm doors to let in some air, these two trail types must've pushed their way in, despite her telling them that she wasn't opening for another hour," Tom said hurriedly. He pointed to the batwing doors, and at the awkward way they hung. "You can see they broke the latch on the batwings to get in, and maybe a hinge. Then they started to yell and began pushing her around, demanding she get drinks and food for them. When she still argued, they started getting the stuff themselves."  
  
"How do you know...?"  
  
"Me and Carl arrived when they started to yell. I been listening while Carl went to fetch you and the others," Tom looked a bit sheepish, indicating that he hadn't had the courage to try and face down the two cowboys on his own. JD nodded, not looking at Tom.  
  
"Alright, you stay here and wait for Buck and Ezra," JD tried smiling at the obviously scared older man, then jogged up to the broken doors to peek inside. He could see that one of the cowboys was behind the counter, helping himself to whatever was behind the bar, while Inez was being held by another cowboy near the backroom. She was still fighting, but this one had one arm around her throat and another pulling her hair.  
  
"Where's the food, harlot," the man was hissing. "We're hungry and we don't want no arguments from no woman."  
  
"Go to hell," she spat back, trying to pull her head forward, but he pulled it back.   
  
"In the back?" he said, ignoring her answer. "And you say you'll cook it for us? Whatever I want? On the house? Why how nice..." he licked her cheek, earning a scream of frustration from the manageress. She suddenly jumped up and stomped on the toes of his feet, causing him to yell and loosen his hold. Twisting, Inez got enough leverage to move and grab a bottle from off the counter, and, just as quickly, turn and smash it across his face. He yelled again, holding onto the side of his face, while his companion behind the bar pulled his gun to point at Inez as she stumbled away.  
  
"Drop it!" JD yelled, jumping into the saloon, rifle raised. The one at the bar turned the gun on the kid, a dumb smile on his face, clearly not seeing a threat in one so young.  
  
Inez fell to the floor, ducking behind a chair just as the rifle shot rang out. The man behind the bar cried out in pain, gripping his now bleeding arm, the gun uselessly falling to the floor.   
  
JD shook his head, "I warned you," he said quietly, a smug smile on his face. The other man, still holding his now bleeding face, turned to try and duck through the back, only to find himself facing an extremely angry Buck Wilmington. The ladies man had come in via the backdoor and the kitchens.  
  
"Going somewhere, peon?" Buck asked, smacking a frying pan across the top of the guy's head. Eyes rolling up in his head, the cowboy fell like a stone. Buck smiled mirthlessly and adjusted his bad arm inside the sling he still wore. Despite having used his good arm, the hit had wrenched his back again, and it began to ache.  
  
Inez sighed in relief and got up from off the floor, just as Ezra pushed into the saloon followed by Carl and Tom. JD was still holding his rifle on the man at the bar, who was whimpering and glaring at the kid at the same time. JD nodded at Ezra, who was grimacing at the scene before him. In seconds, the gambler was by Inez, helping her up and letting her lean on him.  
  
"This one's alive," Buck said, looking up from checking on the cowboy he'd decked. His face darkened when he saw Ezra hold onto Inez, as if he'd been the one to save the day. Ezra was oblivious, only having eyes for the woman before him.  
  
"Are you alright?" the gambler was asking her. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here...."  
  
"Oh please," she breathed, attempting to sound flippant, "it's not as if this sort of thing was unusual." Still, she hugged him tightly, betraying the fact that she was shaking. Then, as if suddenly aware that others were in the room, she let him go, though one hand stayed on his arm, as if she were afraid to let him go. He turned to look at the man behind the bar, his face twisted in a mask of anger.   
  
"You want to fix them up Ezra?" JD asked, never taking his eyes from the cowboy.  
  
"No," Ezra replied quickly, then he sighed in resignation at JD's amused glance. "Oh hell. Get them to the jail. I'll go get what I need from Nathan's."  
  
"How are Nathan and Josiah?" the kid wanted to know.  
  
Ezra looked at the boy, and nodded. "They'll be alright. Slept the whole night through, and Nathan's fever is finally gone. He should be up and about soon."  
  
"Nice," JD smiled, clearly pleased. "Right, Tom, Carl, you grab that one Buck hit, and I'll take care of the ugly one here."  
  
The cowboy behind the bar gripped his arm tighter, his eyes watering with pain, and spat in JD's direction. "Ugly?" he retorted.  
  
"Call 'em as I see 'em, mister. Ain't seen too many uglier than you," JD snorted. "Now get moving," he indicated the man move with a jerk of his rifle. The cowboy frowned even deeper, then came out from the bar to head out the door. Tom and Carl walked up to Buck, who was still rubbing at his shoulder under his sling, and, between them, picked up the unconscious one. Buck followed them out slowly, and, as he passed Ezra and Inez, he caught him kissing her hand.  
  
"You sure you are alright?" Ezra whispered.  
  
"Fine, Senor. I've been through much worse, as you know." She smiled, and gripped his hand tightly. "Just make sure you don't forget about tonight," she told him.  
  
Buck tripped on an upturned chair, using the movement to cover the sharp intake of breath he had at hearing that. Gritting his teeth, he followed JD and his captive out of the clinic.  
___________________________________  
  
Ezra bandaged the cowboy's arm, assuring the man that the bullet had only grazed him, despite the graze being deep. As he fitted the man into a sling, he glanced across at the other one. The second cowboy had regained consciousness and was holding a compress to the side of his face where Inez's bottle had cut him. His eyes were glassy, but he was alert. Ezra glared at him, unwilling to do more than supply the soaked compress. The man could clean his own cuts.   
  
Buck was standing in the jail, twisting the keys in his hand, waiting. JD had gone to help Inez clean up, while Carl and Tom had gone home to get some rest from having stayed up at the jail all night.   
  
Finished, Ezra backed out of the cell, wiping his hands on a towel.  
  
"I will be most pleased when Mr. Jackson regains his sensibilities," Ezra muttered, throwing the towel on the desk with some disgust as Buck locked the cell doors behind him. He sniffed at the noxious smell of linseed oil and milk on his fingers and grimaced.  
  
"Well considering who put him in the clinic, I'd think you'd just be happy to know that he was going to recover at all," Buck snarled. Ezra stopped moving, his whole body going rigid.   
  
Neither spoke as Buck walked around Ezra to the lean on the desk in front of him, arms crossed. The gambler was watching him quietly, his eyes wide open.  
  
"It wasn't my fault, Buck. I had the Judge and those two kids to...."  
  
"I don't want to hear it, Standish," Buck watched him like a hawk. "I do, however, want to know what your intentions are towards Inez."  
  
Ezra startled and rocked back a step. "Inez?"  
  
"You taking her out tonight?"  
  
Shaking his head, Ezra took another step back, back in the direction of the cells. Inside, the two injured cowboys were listening expectantly.  
  
"I...I don't see how that is any of your business, Mr. Wilmington."  
  
"Not my business?" Buck roared, standing up to full height so he towered over the smaller man. Ezra took another step back, hitting the outer cell door.  
  
"You know," Buck hissed. "You know full well how I feel about her."  
  
"Buck, I..."  
  
"Shut up!" Buck gripped his good hand into a fist by his side, a movement Ezra watched with a tightening of the jaw. If Buck hit him, he'd let him. The gambler would not defend himself. After everything that happened this week, if this was the only way he and Buck could resolve this, then it was a small price to pay.  
  
"I know I may not be good enough to be with someone like Inez," Buck said, watching the man before him intently, "but I sure as hell know you ain't good enough for her either. And yet, even after what you did in Red Fork, you still have the balls to go in there and kiss her? You bastard! She deserves so much better than a self-serving weasel like you. What if it'd been her instead of Nathan, huh? Would it have made a difference?"  
  
Ezra was breathing more heavily with each stinging word, their conviction bruising his still fragile heart with severe blows as sure as any fist. Buck had seen them kissing yesterday? Oh lord. "Please Buck..."  
  
"No, no, I don't want to hear it, boy! You may wear the clothes of an adult, Standish, but you're still a hell of a lot younger than me, and you're going to listen to what I have to say." He took a step closer, and Ezra gripped the bars behind him.  
  
"So how long've you been with Inez, huh? Seducing her behind my back for weeks, now, haven't you? You probably both been laughing at me for ages, what with my pitiful attempts to win her. No wonder she kept rebuffing me, cause all this time she was with you...." Buck's train of thought was all over the place, his anger, frustration and jealousy submerging all his reason and logic. In some small part of his brain, Ezra knew this, but the gambler's own psyche was too strained to think any clearer than his friend.  
  
"Yesterday...was the first time, Buck. I swear. Please, you must believe me. I would never hurt you...."  
  
"Well , you are hurting me. Just like you let Nathan get hurt," Buck smiled as Ezra visibly cringed. "What's the matter, boy? Can't face what a jerk you are? Well, neither can I!" Buck stepped forward to stand less than a foot from the younger man, staring down his nose at him. Ezra waited patiently for the blow with his eyes closed, his whole body tensing in anticipation.  
  
"Get in the other cell."  
  
Ezra opened one eye, then the other, and looked up at Buck. "What?"  
  
"Get in there. You're going to rot in there all day until I figure out what I'm going to do with you."  
  
Turning, Ezra glanced at the empty cell next to the one the two cowboys shared. Dust swirled in the sunlight that streamed in through the small barred window above the bed, and the odor of all the unwashed men who'd stayed in there assaulted his nostrils. He looked back at Buck.  
  
"Can't you just hit me?" he asked.   
  
Buck smiled thinly, lips curling away from his teeth like an animal about to strike. "I never hit first, Ezra. I only hit back. Now, get into that cell."  
  
Ezra swallowed, "What about Nathan and Josiah. What if they need me?"  
  
"There are others who can take care of them, now that we're home. Besides, you told JD that they're going to be fine. Josiah's more than healthy enough to call for help should anything change. Now, get in there before I throw you in there."  
  
Ezra grimaced, but nodded. Resignedly, he watched as Buck opened the outer cell door and shoved Ezra in front of him. In moments, he had the other door opened and was indicating to Ezra to get inside.  
  
"You're going to sit in there and think, Standish, about all the things you did wrong this week, all the people you hurt, and why you are going to stay the hell away from Inez. You got that?"  
  
"Yes sir," Ezra mumbled, watching as Buck slammed the door behind him.  
  
"Good," Buck gripped the keys in his fist and smiled wickedly. "I'll see you later then. And don't bother asking JD to get you out. I'm taking the keys with me," he let the iron keyring play around his index finger, the keys on it chiming dully together, then shoved them into his coat pocket. Repeating his earlier snarl-like smile, the ladies man turned to leave. At the doors to the outside, he looked back and nodded, more to himself than to his captive, as Ezra sat down on the musty cot.  
  
"That one loves ya, don't he," the cowboy with his arm in a sling grinned. Ezra snarled back, and turned to face the wall.  
_____________________________  
  
"Hey Buck!" JD jogged across the street from the saloon, working to catch up with Buck who was striding swiftly down to street towards Digger Dan's. "Buck, where are you going?"  
  
"To get a drink, JD," the tall man replied angrily. JD frowned, not understanding the hostility emanating from the older man. He continued to have to jog slightly to keep up with Buck's long strides.  
  
"Well, where's Ez? He gone back to the clinic? Inez was asking...."  
  
"He's in jail, JD. And he's going to stay there."  
  
JD came to an abrupt stop, not hiding his confusion. Buck, however, kept on moving. Breaking out to his reverie, JD ran to catch up with his best friend, grabbing him on the arm and spinning him around.  
  
"What are you talking about, in jail? Why is he in jail?"  
  
"Because he deserves it, now leave me alone." Buck turned back around, but JD moved to stand in front of him.  
  
"For what? For what he did in Red Fork? Buck, he had to do what he did. He had no choice! They would have killed those kids and the judge if he hadn't covered them. Nathan deliberately let himself be a target so that Ezra could get them to safety. You know that."  
  
"Do I?"  
  
"Buck, don't be stupid. This is Ezra we're talking about."  
  
"I know."   
  
"Could of happened to anyone of us, Buck," JD insisted.  
  
Buck looked at him. "But it didn't." The words came out before he was aware of them, and when he did hear them, part of him almost saw clearly. He'd had this exact same argument with Chris about JD after the kid had shot Annie...except now he was playing Chris's role.   
  
JD frowned up at him, then shook his head. "I don't understand. I'm going to go let him out." He looked at Buck, waiting for an argument. Instead, Buck stared at the dirt at his feet. Snorting in disgust, JD made to step away when Buck suddenly reached out to grab JD's arm in a tight grip.  
  
"He kissed Inez," he whispered, almost guiltily, as if in explanation. JD stopped instantly, turning slowly.  
  
"Oh," it was the only thing he could think to say. He almost smiled, happy to know that Inez and Ezra had finally seen what he and the others had known for ages. Stupid as he may be around Casey, he wasn't nearly so blind or foolhardy when it came to the others. But seeing the pain on Buck's face, the smile never appeared.   
  
He didn't realize that Buck still felt that way about the senorita. He had thought Buck saw what the rest of them did. That Inez, while fond of him, had never thought of him that way. She never looked at him the way she looked at Ezra. JD thought Buck was aware of this.  
  
Obviously not.  
  
"Buck...I'm sorry. But...Inez, she makes up her own mind. If she and Ezra...well, she wouldn't have just let him kiss her. More likely she kissed...."  
  
"Stop," Buck shouted, loosing JD's arm. "She has no idea what sort of person he is. He's a snake, a cheat, a...a...a coward." His expression faltered as he heard the words he'd just spoken, hearing how false they rang even in his own ears.  
  
JD just raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like it is you who doesn't know what sort of man he is, Buck."  
  
Buck frowned, his reason breaking through for a moment. JD was right. Ezra wasn't any of those things anymore, if he ever had been. Buck knew in his heart that everything he was feeling and saying right now was wrong, that Ezra deserved as much from him as JD did. Damn it, he liked Ezra, liked him a lot. But then he saw Inez walking across the street to the Potter's, a look of anticipation and joy on her face, and his expression darkened. Glaring once more at the kid, he started walking away, heading once more to Digger Dan's.  
  
"I'm going to go let him out, Buck!" JD called after him.  
  
"I have the keys JD!" Buck retorted, intent once more on getting drunk and forgetting for a while. The kid's mouth opened, then closed. Staring after Buck, he shook his head, then started to run towards the jail. Inez saw him go, curious at why he was rushing, but the curiosity was soon replaced by the excitement of buying that dress...and her date with Ezra tonight.   
________________________________  
  
The kid charged into the jail, puffing slightly, and grimaced when he saw Ezra sitting curled up with his arms around his knees on the cot in the second cell. The gambler was staring blankly at the wall in front of him, rocking back and forth. The other two cowboys both appeared to be napping, their injuries having wiped out their energy.  
  
Calming his breath, JD stepped forward to the outer cell doors and rested his arms through them. A quick glance at the empty post where they normally hung the keys told him that Buck hadn't been lying.  
  
"Ez?"  
  
The gambler didn't reply.  
  
"Ez? I'm going to go and try and talk to Buck and get you out of here."  
  
"Don't bother," came the terse reply.  
  
"You don't belong in here. Buck's just jealous, Ez. He'll get over this."  
  
"Hmm," came the non-committal reply. JD leaned his forehead against the bars separating him from his friend.  
  
"Ezra, you don't deserve this. You do know that, right?"  
  
Ezra hung his head, then turned his neck so he could see JD over his shoulder.  
  
"Are you so sure I don't?"  
  
"Yes. Without question."  
  
Hanging his head against his chest again, Ezra couldn't help but smile. The boy's conviction was like a salve on a wound, even if Ezra hadn't quite reached that conclusion himself.  
  
JD waited for a moment, to see if he would say more, then sighed when he realized that Ezra still didn't understand. Swallowing, he steeled himself, determined to fix the damage his jealous best friend had inflicted, even if it meant bringing up the one thing he least liked to talk about.  
  
"Ezra...Ezra, do you remember when I shot Annie?"  
  
The man on the cot flinched, and he turned surprised eyes to stare at his friend.  
  
"Well," JD continued, "you remember what that did to me? I thought...I thought that it happened because it was me who had the gun. You understand? Almost as if I had done it on purpose, because, if I hadn't of tried to stop them, that if I hadn't fanned my gun, or, if I hadn't tripped in my haste to get out of the line of fire, if..." he paused, licking his lips. "If...." He frowned, aware that his train of thought had gotten away from him as the scene played out for what was probably the thousandth time in his head.  
  
Ezra sat up straighter, turning so that he faced the kid leaning on the bars, though he still had his legs tucked up under him. "JD, it was an accident. A fluke. You could have said what if she hadn't been standing by the window to see what was happening, or, what if she'd gotten behind cover, or, hell, what if the thieves had shot you first?"  
  
"Point is," JD said, looking at Ezra, raising his voice to warn him from interrupting again. "Point is," he repeated more quietly, "I knew it was an accident, see? I knew it then, just as I know it now, but...but I heard what the townsfolk were saying about me, and I saw the doubt in Chris's eyes, and, well, I convinced myself that they were right. That it was me. That if anyone else had been there, that Annie'd still be alive. It wouldn't have happened." He paused, taking in a shallow breath.  
  
"JD, you don't have to...."  
  
"But then I wouldn't have been on that stagecoach when Achilles attacked it. And he would have killed the people on it, I know. Iffin I hadn't been there then, he would have succeeded, wouldn't he? So, it was another, what did you call it? A fluke? It was another fluke that I was on that coach, but it was me that saved it. So the "what ifs"...that time, they worked out."  
  
Ezra nodded. "Luck of the draw," he deadpanned. JD, who had been staring listlessly at the floor, looked back at Ezra with clear eyes.   
  
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Ezra?"  
  
The gambler frowned, not seeing the parallels. He shook his head. "What I did was not an accident, JD. I made a deliberate choice."  
  
"No, you didn't. It was already out of your control by that point. Just like when I made the decision to try and stop those bankrobbers and pulled my gun. You can't control everything all the time, Ezra. You have to make decisions, and sometimes something awful happens as a result, but you have to live with it. You and Nathan made the decision to split up so that you could better protect those people and the Judge, Ez. After it was made, all you could do was what you did. Protect the people who couldn't protect themselves, and trust that one of us would arrive in time to help Nathan. And Buck did."   
  
Ezra watched JD, and saw that this conversation seemed to be healing the old wound of the boy's as much as it was meant for Ezra. JD smiled suddenly.  
  
"So you see, Ezra? What Buck thinks right now, the doubts he has? They aren't real, and, besides, he's wrong. Nathan and me, Ez, we know the truth. We know, because we know you. Once, long time ago, I let the judge put you in here 'cause I didn't know what kind of person you were. Well, I know now, and I'm going to do whatever I can to get you out."   
  
Ezra shook his head, and, suddenly, started to laugh. JD grinned, and lifted his head to brush some of the hair out of it.   
  
"Mr. Dunne, tell you what, so long as I'm playing Nathan's role in this town at the moment, I'm nominating you to play Josiah's."  
  
"Really?" JD's grin widened. "What I said helped?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Dunne. I think, between you and Inez, I may actually finish this week with my soul intact."  
  
Hearing the name Inez caused JD's smile to falter, but Ezra didn't notice as he was rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. The young sheriff nodded then, exuding the deep confidence of one destined to be a great leader, and stood up straight. Tipping his hat to Ezra, he said, "I'll go talk to Buck then." Ezra's eyes flew open again, and he shook his head.  
  
"No...wait. Let him think for a while on his own, JD. Maybe he just needs some time. I know I do. I don't have to be anywhere until later, so I'm all right here, plus, I could use the rest. Fact is, I'd rather he be the one to let me out, unless there is no other recourse." Ezra shifted as he spoke, turning on the cot so his feet were on the ground again and his head leaning back against the back wall.  
  
JD frowned, "You sure, Ez?"  
  
Ezra stared up at the pockmarked gray rock of the ceiling, and nodded.  
  
Still frowning, JD sighed. "I don't like this, Ezra."  
  
"You don't have to, Mr. Dunne. And...frankly...I'm rather glad you don't." He smiled again, and JD returned it wryly. Ezra sighed, "Besides, I do have somewhere rather important to be tonight. Should Mr. Wilmington not return in time for me to get ready for this evening, then you may go and speak to him."  
  
JD perked up at this, and nodded. "All right, Ez. I'll wait, but when Chris and Vin get back tomorrow, or if Josiah gets wind of this, I can't promise they'll be as patient."  
  
Ezra's smile became more crooked as he thought of the others, wondering if JD was right. Probably he was, but Ezra was questioning everything at the moment, from his own soul to those of his friends, despite JD's words. Like Buck, he just needed the time to mull it over in his own head. The only thing he was sure of was that he would be there to pick up Inez tonight. More than anything, he wanted tonight to go right. Something this week would go right.  
  
It had to.   



	3. Parts Three and Four -- Enter the Villai...

Demons and Lovers (Or the Devil's Luck)   
  
Parts Three and Four  
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The day passed slowly, with no one outside of Buck and JD aware that Ezra was in jail. Up in the clinic, Josiah watched over Nathan, although he did wonder why Ezra hadn't returned after getting the supplies he needed. He hoped it was because the gambler was getting some more sleep. The younger man had still looked exhausted, especially after watching over them last night, even though he had seemed lighter than he had all week.  
  
Josiah didn't blame Ezra for what happened to Nathan, how could he? But, like the others, the preacher had needed a little distance for a while, something he was denied because Ezra was tending both of them. Nathan and JD had both accepted Ezra's actions without thinking, but Josiah knew he had acted coldly, just as Buck, Vin and Chris had. He regretted that aloofness now, knowing it might have badly damaged the relationship he'd been building with the younger man, and hoped Ezra would stop by so that he could tell him in person.  
  
Dearest God, how could he have been such a fool as to allow himself to act that way?   
  
Nathan yawned and opened his eyes, looking up at his friend sitting next to him. The healer smiled, and raised a hand to reach for Josiah's. The preacher grabbed it without hesitation.  
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Several hours later, around early afternoon, Yosemite looked up from his smithy as two riders came in slowly towards him and his livery. Placing his hammer to one side, he leant back in the chair to greet them.  
  
"Afternoon strangers, can I help you?"  
  
"You the livery owner, blacksmith?" the taller man asked. He was swarthy, thick of lip and dark of brow. Black hair was tied back sloppily behind his head, allowing for several loose strands. Some women might describe this Hispanic man as handsome, but Yosemite saw an ugliness there that had nothing to do with looks. Nevertheless, never one to turn down a copper, the blacksmith stood up from his chair and nodded.  
  
"That would be me, you need your horses stabled?"  
  
"This one is quick, huh Frank? Smart as a whip, eh?" the second man grinned as he spoke, his voice oddly high pitched for someone with such an old face. Perhaps about fifteen years his companion's senior, this old man was also much uglier. His face twisted into a leer as he watched Yosemite through a pair of pig-like eyes, the silver hair on his head contrasting sharply with a long handlebar moustache the color of pitch.  
  
Yosemite shot him a look, but didn't reply. Instead, he looked back at "Frank." The Hispanic man shot his old friend a dirty look for the sarcastic comment, then dismounted.  
  
"How much," Frank asked.  
  
"Nickel a day," Yosemite replied, "per horse."  
  
Frank nodded, and handed his reins over to the stout man. As he pulled his bags from off the horse's saddle, he looked up at his companion, "Give him your horse, Chet."  
  
Chet snorted slightly before dismounting and adding his reins to Frank's. Then he fished a couple of nickels out of the small purse at his belt and handed them over. Yosemite accepted them with a nickel fisted salute. Chet ignored him and went to pull his own bags from off his horse's saddle.  
  
Frank turned to look over the town, his eyes alighting on the two saloons. After a moment, he chose the one he imagined their friends to have chosen and walked away. Chet followed, shooting one more twisted look at Yosemite as he left.   
  
The blacksmith grimaced slightly, then shrugged. He reached out to pet the one called Frank's horse, who responded by tossing her head slightly. She showed signs of having been ridden hard, which annoyed the soft-hearted man.  
  
"Shh, lovely lady. We'll get you and your friend here someplace nice and comfy, very soon."  
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Frank threw his tack against the wall of the boarding house, his anger evident in every muscle on his face.  
  
"Sons of bitches! What the hell were they thinking!" They'd just spent almost two hours working their way through town, only to discover that the two men they'd come to meet had been put in jail this morning.  
  
Chet flinched where he sat on one of the small beds, and shook his head. "Shhh, Frank, you want the whole world to hear?"  
  
"Shush? SHUSH! You want me to be quiet! Blast you, old man, I have a right to be angry. All those two lowlifes had to do was scope out the town for the day, make sure it was still empty of peacekeepers, and what happens? They get themselves tossed in jail and, to make matters worse, Slim gets himself shot in the arm? What hell good is a lockpick and a safecracker with only one arm? There's more gold in this town's bank than in any of the ones in a twenty mile radius, all because of the seven lawmen, and now I'll never even get to look at it!"  
  
"Boss, boss, there is some good news," Chet tried smiling, betraying several gaps in his yellow array of teeth. Frank, who tried to keep his teeth white (for the ladies) turned away in disgust.  
  
"What good news. You heard what they're saying in town. Them peacekeepers of theirs are back, which is why it was so easy for them to take our boys down this morning. Damn fools! Damn, stupid idiots! Iffin we hadn't gotten that info about them being away in Red Fork so late...."  
  
"Boss..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Boss, they ain't all back, and, those that're here? I understand only two of them ain't hurt."  
  
Frank frowned, turning to Chet with dark eyes. "Say again?"  
  
"Well, see, there's supposed to be seven of 'em, right? Six and the Larabee fella? Well, Larabee's out of town with one of the other ones, and they're not expected back till tomorrow. Then I heard tell that another two are laid up in the clinic over the livery, basically useless to anyone, so I've been told. And then, there's a big fella whom everyone's been saying is drunk as a skunk in one of the saloons, and, when I went to look, boss, sure enough, there he was. But best of all, he got himself a sling. Wrenched his back and hurt his shoulder, so they say. So that leaves..." he paused, counting down on his fingers from seven. Finally, he held up two fingers proudly. "Two!"  
  
Frank watched the small man throughout his whole speech with a cold expression, but when he finished, some warmth returned.  
  
"Well, just two, eh? Any idea where they are?"  
  
"Well, I peeked in the jail about an hour ago, and saw one of them behind the desk watching our boys and some gambler type sitting in the cells. The other, so I overheard, is probably up in the clinic watching the sick ones."  
  
Frank pursed his lips, then clicked his tongue. After a moment, he nodded. "Well, that does make things seem a mite bit brighter, Chet. Don't mean we're going to rob this town, not with Slim hurt, but at least we can probably get 'em out of jail without too much trouble."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Chet positively beamed, and Frank had to look away again so as not to look directly at his teeth.   
  
"Well, then," the dark man said, "let's get this over with. I want this done before the drunk one gets his wits back."   
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Ezra looked up as the kid wandered back into the jail, his face expectant. Behind him, the lazy late afternoon sun shone warmly, silhouetting the boy in the door for a moment before he shut it. When JD shook his head, Ezra sighed.  
  
"I tried, Ez, but he's really far gone. He got angry with me or asking, then..." his face took on a slightly pained expression, and he touched his rear end, "then he got kinda frisky."  
  
Ezra'e eyes widened at the remark, and, unable to resist, burst into laughter. "Oh, my poor friend! Dear Lord...." He held his hand over his heart, while JD tried to shoot him a nasty glare. Finally, incapable of not seeing the humor, JD smiled as well. Over in the adjacent cell, the two cowboys watched and listened with crooked expressions. Then JD sighed.  
  
"Anyway, Ez, I think you may have to..."  
  
"Get myself out. Yes, I thought that might happen," The gambler stopped laughing and drew out the pair of picks he had secreted in his waistcoat pocket, sighing as the thread holding them in place ripped. He hated having to do that...mainly because he hated always having to sew them back in afterwards. JD's mouth fell open as Ezra moved to the cell door and twisted sideways so he could reach his arm through and insert the picks into the lock.  
  
"I forgot you could do that," JD said, watching Ezra twist the picks around. Ezra smiled. After a moment of, JD frowned.  
  
"Hey, wait a second, you could do that all along?" he asked.  
  
Ezra grinned as the lock clicked, and he pushed open his cell door. "Of course, Mr. Dunne. But I told you that I wanted Mr. Wilmington to be the one to let me out. However, I don't have the luxury of waiting for him any longer. Not if I want to take a bath and be ready for this evening." At the outer cell door, he again twisted sideways to reach out and insert the picks in the lock.  
  
JD shook his head in amazement, then he smiled. "No, I mean...have you always been able to do that?"  
  
Ezra looked up, pausing his playing with the lock. "What do you mean, always?"  
  
"I mean, always. As in, from the day we got here?" JD was watching Ezra's fingers, the flat pick loose in the man's flexible hands. Ezra smiled.  
  
"As in, why didn't I let myself out when you first put me in here, all that time ago?"  
  
JD grinned and nodded, and Ezra shook his head. The conman leaned more into the door and returned to his craft.   
  
"Mr. Dunne, if I knew that answer to that question, I would gladly tell you. All I know is, instead of taking advantage of your absences at that time, I had chosen to wait. I'm not really sure for what." The lock fell open, and Ezra pushed open the outer cell door. Well, truth is, he did know, but he would never admit it out loud. He'd stayed because he'd wanted to follow Chris again.  
  
"Hey mister! How bout letting us out too!" One of the cowboys cried, holding onto the bars of his cell. "We'll make it worth your while."  
  
Ezra threw them an incredulous glance and looked back at JD. The young sheriff was leaning on his desk with his arms crossed, clearly impressed.  
  
"Will you teach me how to do that, someday?" he asked. Ezra shrugged.  
  
"Sure, but...."  
  
"But at the moment he's going to use that talent to let my friends out," a low voice said. Both JD and Ezra immediately went for their guns, but it was too late. A tall, handsome Hispanic man stood in the open doorway with a gun pointed and cocked at JD's head. As he walked inside, the creak of the back door to the jail also shut and a gray-haired man wandered in from the rear of the jail. He too had a gun raised, a LeMat from the looks of the old weapon.   
  
Frank indicated the cell door with his weapon, "Open it."  
  
Ezra considered his options, feeling the comforting weight of the derringer on his right arm. Sensing the hesitation, Frank stepped up and clobbered JD on the side of the head with the butt of his gun. The kid fell to the floor in a heap, never having made a sound.  
  
"Hey!" Ezra tried to move forward, but the click of the LeMat behind his head stopped him.  
  
"Let them out, gambler."  
  
"Frank! Chet! Man, are we glad to see you!" the man with the sling said.  
  
"Shut up, Slim." Frank glared at the man, trusting Chet to watch Ezra. "What the hell were you idiots thinking. Now I got to get you out of here before that other lawman finds out."  
  
"We're sorry, Frank," the man with the compress on the side of his face said. Slim, meanwhile, looked confused.  
  
"What other lawman? The drunk one, you mean? The one with the keys? You ain't got to worry about him, Frank. From the sounds of it, he's well into his cups and won't be coming out for a while." Slim was watching Ezra, who was still trying to decide if he could get them out of this.  
  
"No, dimwit. The other one. They says there are two who ain't hurt, and we don't want that other one coming here and causing trouble."  
  
Slim frowned, "But, Boss, the other one is here. You got him there." He pointed at Ezra, who was pursing his lips in annoyance. Frank's expression changed then, face lit with astonishment as he looked at Ezra. The gambler glared back.  
  
"You sure, Slim? I thought this joker was just in jail?"  
  
"Yeah, 'cause the drunk one's jealous about something. That's him, Frank. You got 'em both." Slim smiled then, and Frank's lips twitched. His eyes appraised Ezra and, slowly, he smiled.  
  
"You don't say..." He watched as Ezra swallowed, fingers itching to reach for his guns. "Grab his guns, Chet," Frank said happily. The older man pulled the Remington from Ezra's hip, then lifted the sides of his jacket up to make sure there weren't any more guns. Ezra hadn't bothered to put his shoulder holster and Colt on this morning, so the Remington was the only obvious weapon he wore.  
  
"Now let them out," Frank smiled. "Let them out, or I will ensure that this boy here doesn't see another tomorrow," he placed a boot on JD's exposed neck and started to press. Though still unconscious, JD's face started to tense up as his air was caught off.  
  
"Stop, please!" Ezra hissed, his brow furrowed. "I'll let them out." He walked to the cell door and inserted his picks. In less time than it had taken himself to do it backwards, he had the door opened and the men were released. Ezra stepped back as Slim and his companion walked out. The two cowboys walked to the desk and pulled it open to get their own guns out.   
  
"Impressive," Frank applauded, watching Ezra carefully. "You know, gambler, it seems a shame to waste such a talent. Tell you what, I'm going to give you a chance to save this boy's life." He still kept his boot pressed to JD's neck. Ezra glanced down to make sure JD was still breathing, relieved to see a weak rise and fall of the chest. He looked back at Frank, noticing grimly that he now had four sets of guns pointing at him.  
  
"What have you in mind?" he asked softly.  
  
Frank smiled, pleased at the resigned undercurrent to the man's voice. "Well, I've seen your skill with a lockpick, gambler. Tell me, can you also crack safes?"  
  
Ezra gritted his teeth. "You want to break into the bank," he said.  
  
Frank nodded slowly, "Dead to rights, gambler. And if you don't help, this boy will never see the light of day again."  
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Part Four  
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Judge Travis leaned out of the window of the stage, being careful not to knock his head on the side of the window and watched as Chris Larabee gazed off in the distance. He was looking in the direction of Four Corners for probably the tenth or eleventh time since lunch. While never a talkative person, the gunslinger now made his normal speech habits seem verbose. The Judge also knew that, if he were to peer out the other side of the carriage, he would get the same impression from Vin.  
  
At this moment, they were as equidistant from Four Corners as the Judge's final destination, Greeley. If Chris and Vin were to turn off now, they would reach home by nightfall.  
  
"Chris," Travis called, shifting slightly as his hurt arm bounced off the wall of the carriage when it hit a pothole. When the gunslinger didn't respond immediately, the Judge sucked in another breath and tried again more loudly. "Chris!"  
  
Chris jumped slightly, then growled when he realized that he had not been paying attention. Not trying too hard to hide his irritation, he looked over at the judge with a dark expression.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Go home."  
  
The gunslinger frowned, "What?"  
  
"You heard me. Listen, I really don't need an escort for the rest of the ride, and besides, the sheriff of Greeley said he would meet me not too far from here to escort me into town. Why don't you go home, check on the others."   
  
Chris narrowed his gaze, trying to read the man's face. "I thought you said the sheriff of Greeley couldn't meet you."  
  
"I received a telegram in the last town we stopped at. He can meet me now," the Judge lied. "Hired himself some extra deputies with my permission. In any case, the gang from Red Fork is in bits and pieces now, Chris. I have no fears that I will arrive at my destination safely."  
  
"Judge, Vin and I promised we'd see you all the way there."  
  
"Not necessary. And you have more important things to do. Fences to mend." The older man's eyes narrowed to take on a knowing expression. "I think you may not only be feeling the need to check on your men who are unwell, but on the healthy as well, correct?"  
  
Chris watched him intently for a moment, refusing to admit that he had been feeling guilty about his standoffish treatment of Ezra. The sound of hoof beats caused him to look behind, just in time to see Vin pull around the back of the stage and come up alongside.  
  
"We should go home, Chris. The Judge is right." The tracker had his head bowed, not looking at either man. After a moment, though, he too found himself staring off in the direction of Four Corners out the corner of his eye.  
  
"We made a promise, judge, not to leave you until we were sure you were safe."  
  
"I'm safe," Orrin stated, wincing as he was once again thrown against his bad arm. He stuck his head out a little further to send a glare in the direction of the oblivious driver and his second. "And I'm going to beat this fool driver's head in if he doesn't start looking out for potholes!" he yelled. Up above, the driver sent a startled look back, his face confused. His second laughed.  
  
"Yeah, well," Chris looked at the rifle sitting across the knees of the driver's second. These were seasoned men transporting the judge, and it was true they were not that far from Greeley. He closed his eyes, sighing. His heart willed him to ride off, but his reason demanded he stay.  
  
"Seems safe enough to me," Vin said to the air. "See you later Judge." With an abrupt move, he tipped his hat at Orrin and turned Peso's head. Moments later, he was heading out at a good clip in a direction almost perpendicular to that as the stage. Chris's mouth fell open.  
  
"You gonna let him beat you back to town?" The Judge teased.  
  
Chris glanced back at him, then gave him a crooked smile. "See ya Judge," he said, before tipping his own black hat and turning Solon around to follow his best friend.  
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Ezra had his arms crossed over his chest, watching JD with a nervous tension. The boy still hadn't regained consciousness, and this was beginning to worry Ezra immensely. Sending a lethal glare in the direction of Chet and the other two outlaws (what were their names? Slim and Paisley? Something like that), who continued to hold their weapons on Ezra and JD with astonishing concentration, the gambler tapped his fingers on his sleeves and sighed heavily.  
  
Chet looked up from where he sat next to JD on the floor, "something the matter?"  
  
"How much longer are we going to sit...."  
  
The back door creaked open, bringing everyone back up to attention. Ezra straightened, hoping it would be Buck, but the smell of too much cologne told him otherwise. Frank smiled as he reentered the main room of the jail, and threw a purse of coins at Chet.  
  
"Got the horses, including an extra one for our reluctant companions here. They can ride double," the handsome bandit said, brushing a long black lock of hair from his face. "We can leave now."  
  
"And where, pray tell, are we going?" Ezra asked, watching JD. As if aware of the scrutiny, JD groaned and a hand drifted to his head. Frank ignored him to also look down at the kid.  
  
"Nice timing," Frank grinned, kneeling down to prod JD with the barrel of his gun. "Wake up, boy."  
  
Ezra let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when JD's hazel eyes fluttered open. The kid groaned again when Frank's face came into focus staring down at him.  
  
"Oh hell," the boy muttered, shutting his eyes again. Frank laughed lightly and prodded him again.  
  
"No, no, keep 'em eyes open, boy, we're going for a ride."  
  
"Where are we going?" JD croaked back, opening his eyes again, his vision clearer now. Ezra tried to take a step forward to check on him, but Slim and Paisley shook their heads. The gambler stopped, his lips pursed in frustration.  
  
"To a little hidey hole me and Chet found," Frank replied. "You'll stay there with Slim and Paisley while we and your lock-picking friend here come back to rob the bank once night has fallen."  
  
"Lock-picking friend?" JD eyes narrowed in puzzlement and he titled his head up off the ground to look around the room. Ezra stood with his arms crossed a few feet away, watching him closely. "Oh," the boy whispered, "but Ezra can't crack safes."  
  
Frank frowned, dark eyes darting to meet Ezra's, "That true?"  
  
"No. I can open the safe."  
  
"Ezra," JD hissed in disappointment, "don't."  
  
"I will not put you at risk anymore than I have to, Mr. Dunne."  
  
"Yes, that's right," Frank nodded at the gambler. "See, Mr. Dunne, if Chet and I do not return to the encampment by dawn, Slim and Paisley will kill you. Slowly, if I know Paisley." He looked across at the silent man, who had a bunch of nasty, tiny little cuts on the side of his face where Inez had gotten him with the bottle. Paisley didn't respond, too unhappy about his face to think about anything but watching Ezra.   
  
Frank, meanwhile, looked back at JD, "And your friend here has assured me that he will do whatever I ask to prevent any harm coming to you. He gave me his word."   
  
"Oh hell, Ez..." The boy sat up, his hand still on his aching head. Chet reached out and helped pull him to his feet.   
  
"Tie him up," Frank ordered the older outlaw.  
  
"What? Why?" Ezra demanded, stepping forward, his arms falling to his sides although he knew there were no guns there, his right arm itching to release the derringer. Frank instantly put his gun to the side of JD's head and cocked it. Ezra stopped, fear coursing through him.   
  
"Because while you seem to be a coward, the boy here does not," Frank replied quietly. Ezra stood stock still, his eyes flashing. Then, slowly, he re-crossed his arms and stepped back. He would not risk JD. He would not let the boy get hurt because of him. He wouldn't let that happen again. His head lowered so that he stared blankly at the ground.  
  
"This is too easy," Frank laughed lightly. Chet snorted in derision as he tugged JD's arms behind him. The kid, meanwhile, was staring with a completely confused expression at Ezra. This was so unlike the gambler. God, he hoped this was a con.  
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The hum of the only sewing machine in town rolled out of the door of the seamstress's as Miss Meg redid the seams on the blue dress Inez had brought her. Her foot rocked up and down on the peddle, the neat spindle rapidly loosing thread as the machine did its work. She was not a young woman, the new seamstress, not like the young woman she had replaced who had, so Meg had been told, met an untimely end. No, she wasn't young, but neither was she old, and an unlined face stared with intensity at the delicate stitch-work beneath her fingers. The only testament to the years she held was the silver stretching back from her temples.  
  
"How is it going?" a sweet accented voice asked from the doorway. Miss Meg smiled, but didn't look up. After one more second, she stopped pumping with her foot and the machine stilled. She pulled the fabric out and gently snipped the thread with a pair of scissors.  
  
"It's done," she replied in a slight Scottish brogue. "Ye've got a nice frock here, lassie, very fancy." She stood and shook the dress out. "Ye should try it on afore I let you leave with it, though."  
  
Inez smiled and stepped inside, her hands reaching for the dress. Miss Meg released it with a sigh and watched as Inez stepped over to pull closed the curtained space on one side of the room.  
  
"You needed it in an awful hurry, lass. Is there sometin' special going on tonight?"  
  
Inez laughed at the question, color rising on her face as she pulled the dress on. "Yes...you could say that. I'm, uh, I'm going to dinner with someone."  
  
"Truth? Oh, that's lovely. Is it that Buck?"  
  
"Buck?" Inez laughed harder, "No. No, there was a time..." she drifted off. "No, your gossip is a touch old, Miss Meg. Buck and I have never been more than friends. No, it is one of his friends."  
  
"Oh," Meg smiled and sat back down next to her machine, her fingers playing with the needles and pins sticking out of the pincushion on the desk. "Then it is with the gambler. The one 'ose lovely jackets and weskits I seem to have to stitch up more oft than I like to think on."  
  
Inez didn't laugh this time. Instead, she emerged from behind the curtain, the dress fitting snugly around her. The shape was flattering, but she bit her lip as she self-consciously smoothed it down. "Yes. Ezra. Has a habit of getting in the way of bullets," she attempted a laugh, but there was no humor in her eyes. Aware of her failure, she shook her head. "Oh, senorita, I swear, every time I learn that he has been hurt I...." She stopped and sighed, wondering why she suddenly felt vulnerable in this room and this dress. As she looked into the seamstress's almost bottomless black eyes, the normally self assured manageress found her walls crumbling.   
  
"Seems like you care quite a bit for the young man," the seamstress said, stepping forward to check on her handiwork. Inez raised her arms as Meg walked around her.  
  
"Yes, I...He and I, well...." Inez smiled, "It's been almost a year and a half since I first met him, and, in that time, we have become very close, especially when he moved in to the saloon from the boarding house. He helps me with the saloon, you see, and I have come to rely on him to always be there for me. He was my first friend in town, the first to take me seriously, to take me in and...and I still count him as my best friend. And there have been times, late at night, when I wondered, watching him helping me close up the tavern, that...." She stopped, her dark brown eyes looking up, almost startled. "Oh, Miss Meg, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm babbling," she grinned sheepishly, but the seamstress shook her head.   
  
"I asked, love. And, I get the feeling that you needed some'un to talk to about it."  
  
"I, yes, maybe," Inez shook her head. She prided herself on always being in control, but, for some reason, the closer she got to the hour she was supposed to meet Ezra, the more nervous she was feeling. Her hands moved to smooth down the dress again, to hide the peculiar shiver that hit her.  
  
"He's very lucky," Miss Meg said. Practiced hands tested the tautness of the dress's torso, and her eyes inspected the stitching for loose threads and hems. Inez raised her arms again as Meg floated around her. For an absurd moment, she felt like a princess being readied for the ball.  
  
"As am I," Inez replied quietly. Her eyes looked out the large plate glass window to the street beyond. The seamstress's shop was down one of the streets off the main one, and looked directly across at the barber's. For a moment, she wondered if Ezra might be in there. A smile crossed her face as her nerves bubbled up inside here again. Her raised arms felt tired with the strain of holding them up for so long.  
  
"I'm just afraid, senorita," she continued. "You see, I...I was the one to...I mean, he asked me, but, I wonder...."  
  
"He'll be there, love. If he's not, he is the greatest fool this world has e'er known." The seamstress didn't look up as she tugged down on part of the skirt and watched the repaired hem hold. "This looks fine, Miss Inez. It is perfect."  
  
Inez smiled.  
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JD leaned back slightly as the rented horse bucked a little. In front of him, Ezra quieted the antsy mare with a soothing word and a pat. The kid swallowed and shifted to get a better balance. He hated riding in back, and he especially hated doing it without being able to hold onto the rider in front of him. He had to trust his legs and balance, and, while he trusted them on his own horse, this skittish mare was providing a challenge.  
  
She calmed down enough to allow JD to relax slightly. Around them the other four outlaws were not paying them much attention as they cantered towards the trees in the distance. They were heading vaguely northeast, in the direction of the James Ranch. Because James "owned" all this land around here for his cattle to graze, there was no one around who might be able to help them.   
  
Slowly, they descended into a valley lined by a thin, bubbling brook down its center. JD leaned forward as Ezra instinctively leaned back.  
  
"Ezra?" JD hissed in the gambler's ear.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"What is the plan? I mean, you have a plan, right?"  
  
"Not as such, no."  
  
"But, the way you acted back at the jail...That was an act, right?"  
  
"No."  
  
JD's eyes widened at the honest statement. Damn.   
  
Ezra swallowed, his eyes on the ground before the mare's hooves. "I said I would do nothing to jeopardize your safety, Mr. Dunne."  
  
"Ez, come on, they are going to kill us anyway, you know that."  
  
"Maybe. Or maybe I can convince them to let you go, if I get them what they want."  
  
"Ezra, you're not seriously....You can't rob the bank!"  
  
"If it comes down to having to choose between you and something else, JD, I will choose you. I will not sacrifice another of my friends, especially not to save a mere bank."  
  
JD heard these words, his face screwed up in worry. Then, with a shuddering sigh, he figured it out. This was about Nathan. The kid rested his head on Ezra's shoulder, his eyes closed.  
  
"Can you crack safes?" he asked after a while.  
  
"No."  
  
"No?" JD looked up, eyes wide.  
  
"But I have a habit of memorizing numbers, Mr. Dunne, an interesting side effect of my profession. Half the time, I do not even notice I'm doing it. In any case, I have seen our bank manager open the safe enough times to know the combination by heart."  
  
JD's eyes remained wide open as he processed this.   
  
"But there is something I want to give you," Ezra said quietly. The gambler looked around at the outlaws, but they too seemed intent on guiding their horses down the slight incline. Slowly, he snaked his right arm behind his back, and engaged the derringer rig. JD felt the released gun dig against his abdomen, and he shrank back slightly.   
  
"I can't grab it. My hands are tied behind my back," JD whispered quickly. "Besides, you might need..." He shut up as he felt Ezra feel along the top of his trousers with the gun barrel. When he reached the bone of his hip, the gambler tucked the gun inside JD's pants pocket. JD frowned, as Ezra returned his arm to the front.  
  
"If you get the opportunity, use it to get you away."  
  
"What about you?" JD whispered quietly. His eyes were narrowed now, knowing that there was nothing he could do to give the gun back with his hands bound.  
  
Ezra didn't answer.  



	4. Parts Five and Six -- Luck of the Draw

Demons and Lovers (or The Devil's Luck)  
  
Parts Five and Six  
_________________________________________  
  
Inez checked her image in the mirror of the saloon one last time, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She bit her lips slightly to add some color and straightened her shoulders. The dress was much fancier than anything she had ever owned before, and she felt a little strange in it.  
  
"You look nice," Seth said encouragingly as he drifted past with a tray of beers. Inez smiled after him, then looked up at the clock on the bar.  
  
She tried not to notice that Ezra was late. Five minutes. Her eyes looked up at the stairs as she heard a floorboard creak.  
  
Only one of her renters. He leered at her, and she glared back. Turning away, Inez leaned against the bar and drummed her fingers.  
  
The clock ticked by, and outside the deepening gloom of dusk darkened the town. It would soon be nightfall. The knots in her stomach started to tighten unmercifully. What if she had been wrong about how he felt about her? What if he'd changed his mind? What if....   
  
"Still not here?" Cherise asked quietly. Inez shot her an annoyed look, but Cherise just shrugged it off. "Listen, I've been here most of the day, and I have to say, I haven't seen him since this morning when he went off with those men who attacked you. Maybe he's at the jail? Or maybe something happened at the clinic. I mean, it is odd that he hasn't been home even to change, don't you think?" Her eyes were calm, understanding. It broke through the defensive barrier of anger that Inez had been building.  
  
The manageress sighed, absorbing this information slowly. Finally, she nodded. Drawing the shawl about her shoulders, she stood up and thanked Cherise.   
  
"I'll go check the jail," she agreed.   
_______________________________________  
  
When the sun hit the horizon, Ezra, Frank and Chet left the camp, moving out at a good clip back towards town. The whole time they'd been at this hiding place, Ezra had barely looked at JD, sitting dejectedly by his side until Frank had whistled that it was time to go.  
  
Paisley took their absence to sit down and groan, resting his head on his knees. The outlaw still felt sick from the two blows to his head, and the scars on his face kept ripping to drip blood every time he spoke. He hoped he'd get the chance to kill that bitch at the bar when this was over.  
  
Slim rubbed at his arm and took a sidelong glance at JD. "Ugly, am I?" he asked walking across to the kid. Before JD could answer, the outlaw delivered a swift blow with his foot to JD's side, eliciting a cry of pain from the younger man. Slim knelt next to him, a sneer on his face. JD growled back, wishing he could hold his side with his hands. Slim laughed.  
  
"You'd better pray I don't get too impatient waiting for Frank, boy, or I may have to show you how ugly you can be with a little help." To punctuate the point, he smacked his hand as hard as he could across the boy's face, drawing blood from a now split lip. "There," Slim grinned, "That's a start." Still grinning, he got up and walked away, as JD tentatively touched his swelling lip with his tongue.  
  
Closing his eyes, the kid leaned back against the rock, feeling the comforting weight of the derringer in his pocket. Fingers felt along the stone, seeking out a sharp bit. After a moment, he was rewarded by a somewhat jagged edge.   
  
Slowly, carefully, he started to worry the ropes around his wrists against the stone.  
_____________________________________  
  
Vin sat up straighter in his saddle, peering out over the valley with a curious air. Seeing this, Chris slowed down, watching as Vin pulled out his spyglass.  
  
"I can see Ezra down there," the tracker said as he placed it to his eye.  
  
"Really?" Though he trusted Vin most times, the gunslinger couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. Squinting, Chris could just make out the shadows of three riders moving along the valley base, but never in a million years could he discern one from the other.  
  
"I recognize the shape of his swallowtail jacket...and the way he rides," the tracker smiled. "Can't tell who he's with though. But," the tracker paused, frowning, "he is riding nervous."  
  
"Nervous?" Chris leaned forward in the saddle.  
  
"Stiff backed. Maybe we should find out why?"  
  
Chris just nodded once and spurred Solon forward, the large horse responding instantly to the command despite how tired he was. In moments, they were halfway down the valley and easily visible to the men coming towards them.  
  
Ezra tried not to react as he recognized the incoming riders, his mind tripping over the kiss lady luck had just given him. Perhaps she was making up for the hellish luck she'd deviled him with in Red Fork, he thought absurdly.   
  
"Ezra!" Chris called, moving to intercept.  
  
"Whoever they are," Frank hissed at the gambler, "get rid of them!"  
  
Ezra's mind finally kicked into gear, working furiously at the discovery that neither of his captors recognized Chris, despite the somewhat distinctive clothing the gunslinger always wore.   
  
Luck of the draw, JD. Now all I have to do is turn the coach.  
  
Chris pulled to a stop just before them, and Vin reined in beside him. The tracker raised a hand in greeting, but his face was not very welcoming as he looked upon Ezra's companions. Frank offered a dark smile in return.  
  
"Ezra," Chris said, shifting in his saddle to place a hand on his hip above his gun, "Where you headed?"  
  
The gambler knew that Chris and Vin were reacting to his companions, and not to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't use it to his advantage. He offered Chris a sneer.  
  
"I could ask the same of you, Lucas. Awful far from the ranch, aren't you? Surprised your uncle doesn't have you under lock and key after the last time my peacekeeping companions and I met up with you."  
  
Chris raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't react. After a short pause, he offered a smile, "There's no law that says we can't be taking a ride, lawman, especially on this land. And considering that you don't got none of those peacekeepers with you, I wouldn't be so quick to annoy me."  
  
"Are you blind, Lucas? I am riding with two such gentlemen as we speak. And you, I'm surprised you don't have your usual two cronies with you. Although I will admit," he gave the taciturn Vin an acid look, "Mr. Spivak there is dangerous enough to be two men. I still don't know how you escaped the hangman, sir."  
  
"Just lucky I guess," Vin replied, trying to play along. Never the best of liars, Vin had hoped not to say anything in whatever con Ezra was spinning.  
  
Ezra snorted, "Luck has nothing to do with it, Mr. Spivak, not when the James family is involved. Now, Lucas, why don't you run along before my friends and I teach you that it is not nice to interfere with a lawman going about his nightly duties?"  
  
Chris glowered at Ezra, and at the two men behind him, as if he were weighing his options. Slowly, his hand came away from his gun.   
  
"You win this time, Ezra. But, mark me, this isn't over."  
  
"It never is, Lucas."  
  
"Come on, Del," Chris said, looking to Vin, "Let's get the hell out of here." With a loud "Hyah!" Chris spurred Solon forward and up the other side of the valley. Vin stared at Ezra a second longer, then, without a word, spurred Peso forward to follow the black horse.  
  
Frank snorted as the two men disappeared up over the ridge. "Make a lot of friends in your business, don't you?"  
  
"You said you wanted rid of them. That was the fastest way. Besides, they are enemies. Any other reaction from me would have seemed strange," Ezra responded quietly. "Now, shall we move on?"  
  
Frank shook his head and slapped Ezra's rented horse on its rump. The mare jumped and took off at a quick gait, Frank and Chet directly behind.  
  
On top of the hill, Chris and Vin watched them leave.  
  
"What the hell was that?" the tracker asked, looking to Chris.  
  
"Two men must be holding JD back in the direction of the James Ranch, and he might be hurt. These others are going with Ezra into town where, I would guess, they are going to use him to break into the bank. Think you can follow their back trail to get to JD?"  
  
Vin didn't reply for a moment, until Chris turned a speculative glance his way. Breaking from his reverie, the tracker nodded. "Yeah, sure. But...how did you...?"  
  
Chris grinned, "He called me Lucas James, because he wanted to point us in that direction. He used Del Spivak to warn us that JD was hurt, or going to be hurt. He mentioned that I usually travel with two men, meaning there are two men guarding JD. And finally, he mentioned his nightly duties. What Ezra's nightly duties are is to patrol the town, including checking that the bank is locked. Although it is possible that they might be going into town to rob something else, I doubt it."  
  
Vin let out a low whistle.  
  
"You and Ez...you have your own language, you know that?"  
  
Chris smiled, thinking that he and Vin had their own language as well - just a different one. "Yeah. I'm beginning to figure out how his mind works." He sighed, and picked up Solon's reins to hold them more tightly. "I'm going to go to watch Ezra's back. You go rescue JD."  
  
Vin nodded slowly, "Fine. But how come you don't want to take those two holding Ezra right now. We could easily get the drop on them."  
  
Chris frowned, the thought having crossed his mind several times already. "I don't want to risk it. I don't know how close we are to JD that those holding him might hear any gunshots and take the kid out. Plus, I think, had Ezra wanted us to help him, he would have told me. Instead, he specifically wanted us to go after JD. There must be a reason for that."  
  
Vin stared up at the red and purple sky, licking his lips with his tongue. "Maybe," he said quietly, wondering if Ezra didn't ask for help for some other reason, namely that he didn't want any. At the same time, a different thought popped into his head, and he looked at Chris. "I noticed you didn't mention Buck as being part of Ezra's code."  
  
"No. That's the other reason I didn't want to act too quickly. I don't know why Buck isn't here too." Chris pursed his lips, his eyes hooded in worry. "Go after JD. I'll meet you in town."   
  
Vin nodded again as Chris rode away along the top of the ridge, moving fast in order to catch up with the men now disappearing in the distance. The tracker turned his mount around and headed down into the valley to follow the back trail. As he reached the bottom and started moving along the small stream, his mind couldn't shake that last question....  
  
Where was Buck?  
______________________________________  
  
"Where is he!" Inez demanded, slamming her hands down on the wooden table in Digger Dan's. Buck looked up startled, his red rimmed eyes confused.  
  
"Where's who?" he mumbled in reply.  
  
"Where is Ezra, you poor excuse for a man! What have you done with him?" She stood up, placing her hands on her hips. Buck blinked, noticing the Mary-like dress Inez wore. She was all done up...and looking beautiful.  
  
"I like the drezz," he slurred, smiling up at her.   
  
Inez's face flared with anger, and, in one swift move, she grabbed the nearly full beer mug sitting in front of him and threw its contents in Buck's face.   
  
"Hey! Whazzat fer?"  
  
"Where is he? Huh? Do you know?" She tapped her foot, her eyes flashing.  
  
Buck watched her for a second, her questions finally registering in his mind. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to the table, shame pouring out of him.  
  
"He's at the jail. Locked him in." As if in proof, he pulled the jail's keys out of his pocket.  
  
"Locked him...?" Inez's mouth fell open, though she quickly closed it again. "Well, he's not there now. So where is he?"  
  
Buck flinched slightly, and he turned confused eyes to Inez. "What?"  
  
"I said, he's not there. The jail is empty." She frowned, her head tilting to the side, "Wait a minute...it was empty." She looked confused, then her face opened up slightly, "Buck, did you not lock up those two men who were at the saloon this morning?"  
  
Buck put a hand to his forehead, willing some clarity into his less than sober mind. "Where's JD?" he whispered.  
  
"He wasn't there either," Inez voice had lost some of its edge. She rocked back suddenly as Buck erupted up out of his chair, nearly upending the table in front of him.  
  
"Something'zz wrong," he mumbled, staggering as quickly as he could out of the bar. Pulling her shawl more tightly around her, Inez tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine and followed him.  
  
Buck moved quickly, if a bit erratically, towards the jail and threw open the door. As Inez had said, it was empty. Anger and confusion throbbed in his skull as he reached for the desk and started ripping open drawers. Inez arrived to stand silhouetted in the doorway, watching him with a stoic expression.  
  
Ripping open the bottom drawer, Buck grimaced as he found JD's two colts and Ezra's Remington resting inside, chambers empty.   
  
"You locked Ezra in?" Inez said quietly, her brown eyes regarding the cells in back. "Why didn't he let himself out?"  
  
Buck looked up sharply at the question, then turned to look at the cells. Making his way over, he knelt down to look at the lock on the first door. Sure enough, there were scratches in the black metal from a lock pick.   
  
"Did he...did he not want to have dinner with me?" Inez said from behind him, her voice strange. Buck frowned, still staring at the lock, then, with tremendous care, he turned to look at her. She looked oddly lost, her lips parted slightly with a nervousness he had never seen in her before, and, combined with the dress, it was almost as if she were a different woman.  
  
"No, Inez. He wanted to have dinner with you. Something has happened to him and JD. I found their guns in the desk. Something to do with our missing inmates." He stood up, sobriety returning as the seriousness of the situation hit him. Inez shut her eyes.  
  
"So, what do we do?"  
  
Buck shook his head. "You go home. I'm going to go talk to Josiah."  
  
"He's asleep. I looked in there for Ezra before coming to find you. He and Nathan are both asleep. Senora Greene is watching over them."  
  
"Okay," Buck frowned, "well, I'm still going to go talk to him. But I think I'll have a talk with Yosemite first. Somebody had to provide the horses to get these men out of here. And I'll send some telegraphs to neighboring towns, see if anyone has seen them."  
  
"Can't you...track them?"  
  
Buck looked out at the nearly darkened street. In half an hour, it would be night. He sighed.  
  
"No. Not until morning. I don't have Vin's skill to be able to track at night."  
____________________________________  
  
Vin left Peso near the forest edge, and crept in towards the clearing. He could smell the campfire and the sound of two men speaking quietly. One of them laughed. Taking advantage of the noise, Vin moved a bit quicker, stopping only when the laughter stopped. A few minutes later, he knelt down behind a tree and pulled his Winchester from the holster strapped to this thigh.  
  
He could see JD, dried blood on his chin and a purple bruise on his forehead, watching the two men by the fire like a hawk. He could also see that the boy was working the ropes behind his back. Smiling, Vin watched as the boy suddenly jerked...his hands were free.  
  
"All right, kid, make your move...," Vin whispered, watching as JD reached around slowly to put his hand in his pocket. The two outlaws by the fire never noticed, and the one with the sling on his arm started laughing again.  
  
JD tried not to smile as the sound covered his pulling back the hammer on Ezra's derringer. Abruptly, he jumped to his feet, pointing the gun in the direction of the two men.  
  
"Don't move!" he yelled, rather pointlessly. Paisley instantly went for his gun, and JD shot him in the shoulder. Slim pulled his gun too, but before he could pull it up to aim, The loud bark of a Winchester rang through the clearing, spinning Slim around to fall on the ground next to his partner, holding his other arm. Slim started screaming wildly about his arm, while Paisley just lost consciousness - his body had had enough.  
  
JD swung the tiny gun around, his eyes bright with bewilderment.   
  
"Now, don't ya shoot me too kid!" Vin laughed, stepping out from behind his cover.  
  
"Vin!" JD's face cracked into a huge smile, then it fell. "Where'd you come from? Why aren't you in Greeley? Where's Chris? How did you find me? Oh my gosh, we have to help Ezra!" The rapid succession of unconnected thoughts that spilled from the kid's lips had Vin shaking his head. At least JD was easier to understand than Ezra...just.  
  
"Are you alright?" Vin asked slowly, his voice calm. JD took a deep breath, trying to mimic the tracker's poise.  
  
"Yes, but...Ezra, Vin, we have to help Ezra. He's got two guys with him."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Are they and these the only ones?" Vin pointed in the direction of Slim and the sleeping Paisley. Slim was now sitting with his head between his knees, gripping his bleeding shoulder, completely unaware of anything but the pain. Small whimpers emitted from his throat.  
  
JD wiped the blood from his chin, eyes watching Vin, "You know about them? Does that mean you got them already? Oh thank..."  
  
"No, not yet. Chris is tracking them. We didn't want to stop them until we knew that you and whoever else they might be holding over Ezra were safe. What are they planning, kid?"  
  
"To rob the bank. Ezra's helping them because of me, and only me. The others are safe, for the moment. They don't know anything." JD shook his head, "Ezra's really acting strange, Vin. Like he doesn't care about what will happen to him if he succeeds. He gave me this," he palmed the derringer to show Vin, "so I could have a chance. He has nothing to protect himself now, Vin. They'll kill him when they get what they want, I know it."   
  
"Then we best make sure that he has protection," Vin stated firmly. "In other words, us."  
  
"You have to trust in one of us to be there," JD whispered, thinking on his conversation with Ezra at the jail. Vin looked at him curiously. Ignoring the questioning gaze, the kid turned to the two still very much alive outlaws.  
  
"What about them?"  
  
Vin looked at the two outlaws, his face dark. "Leave them for now. I think we need to get into town quickly. Just bind their wounds and tie 'em to a couple of trees. We simply have to hope nothing too hungry comes along while we're gone." He gave Slim a feral smile when the outlaw tipped up his head to stare at him.   
  
JD nodded, and headed towards the two horses standing at the clearing edge. Vin kept his rifle up, though it seemed clear that neither Slim nor Paisley would put up a fight.   
  
"By the way, JD," Vin said, watching as the kid pulled a shirt out of one of the outlaw's saddlebags to use as a bandage, "What happened to Buck?"  
  
"Don't ask," the kid replied, his voice tinged with annoyance.  
__________________________________  
  
Part Six  
_________________________________  
  
Buck sat in the clinic, his head in his hands. Nathan sat up in his bed, hands worrying at the blanket on his bed, while Josiah leaned against the windowsill. No one spoke.  
  
"This is my fault," Buck said eventually, his voice dead.  
  
"I think...," Josiah said quietly, staring out at the street below, "I think there has been entirely too much blame being worn in this town lately."  
  
"Josiah," Buck said, looking up with damp eyes, "I'm so sorry. I know how much Ezra has come to mean to you."  
  
"Did you not hear what I just said, Buck?" Josiah flashed. "You taking on weight of guilt is not helping. Besides, how much Ezra means to me, or how much JD means to you is irrelevant right now. What we need to do is figure out what happened."  
  
"If you ask me, you both sort of treated Ezra badly. Just my opinion," Nathan groused from his bed.  
  
Two pairs of startled eyes turned to the healer. Josiah snorted.  
  
"Well, if that isn't the figurative pot calling the kettle..."  
  
"I'm just saying that...."   
  
"Hey!" Buck yelled, "Quit it!"  
  
Nathan and Josiah glared at each other a second longer, before the preacher sighed.   
  
"Sorry Nathan."  
  
"Just didn't like you two intimating that I don't care about Ezra or JD as much as you," Nathan replied peevishly.   
  
This, of course, made Buck and Josiah feel even worse. Nathan couldn't resist a small chuckle at their crestfallen faces.   
  
"We're a pathetic group, aren't we?"   
  
Josiah actually smiled at that, shaking his head. "In any case, as I said, what we need to do is figure out what happened."   
  
"How?" Nathan asked, his brow furrowed, "According to Buck, no one saw anything."  
  
"I know," Josiah sighed. "But there has to be something." He picked up a candle from off the sill and blew it out. Moments later, he threw it across the room with so much force, it broke into several pieces. Both Nathan and Buck jumped.  
  
"I hate feeling this helpless, damn it! Trapped in this damned room. If I'd just been able to go outside to find him today, like I wanted to..."   
  
Buck's mouth fell open, having rarely seen Josiah get this angry. Nathan clicked his tongue, dark eyes focused squarely on the preacher.  
  
"I thought you weren't going to talk about fault any more, old friend," the healer said calmly. Josiah glowered at him, but Nathan just raised his head. Eventually, Josiah lowered his gaze and slumped into the chair by the window, his hand playing with the bandages around his thigh. The leg throbbed, reminding him that putting weight on it for longer than a few minutes was a bad idea.  
  
"Useless," the preacher said. Nathan returned to picking away at the coarse blanket.  
  
"Man" Buck said, lowering his head to his hands again, "I wish Chris and Vin...."  
  
A heavy knock at the door startled all of them, and Buck stood up to draw his gun.   
  
"Who's there? What do you want?" Buck called, hand at his waist.  
  
"The usual," a low voice growled, opening the door and letting in a powerful gust of wind that blew up the arrival's black duster like raven's wings, "I want your hide. But for now, we have a job to do." Chris looked around the room at the surprised inhabitants and smiled thinly, "And, seeing as only two of us are actually mobile, I'd say we need a plan."  
___________________________________  
  
"Well?" Frank asked, watching as Chet looked up and down the dark main street of Four Corners again. They'd been waiting a while now, as the townsfolk slowly made their way to bed. The old man turned and smiled, gruesome teeth in full regalia. Both Ezra and Frank quickly averted their gaze.  
  
"All clear, boss," Chet said. "Not a soul on the street that looks like it would care 'bout anything."  
  
"Magnifico," Frank nodded. "All right, Ezra the lawman, let's see your stuff."  
  
The gambler nodded, and moved to peek around the corner. Seeing no one, he slipped along the boardwalk and reached the door to the jail. In seconds, he had the door opened and was inside. Frank and Chet followed him in.  
  
The older outlaw kept watch at the window as Ezra moved to the cell like vault in the back. He got through the doors quickly and then sat in front of the safe. For a moment, he simply closed his eyes, his memory imagining Mr. Wilson turning the combination. Taking a deep breath, he pictured the numbers in his mind and reached up to rotate the lock.  
  
A resounding click echoed around the small room, and Ezra smiled.  
  
"Well done," Frank hissed. He handed Ezra a pair of saddlebags. "Fill them." Dutifully, Ezra took them and did as he was told.  
  
Chet peered out at the street, his eyes narrowing as he thought he caught some movement down the street. He watched the spot for a moment, and, sure enough, after a moment, he caught the movement again...someone was hiding down the alley opposite the bank.  
  
"Boss!" he hissed.  
  
Frank looked up, "What?"  
  
"I think we have trouble. There is someone out there,"  
  
Ezra looked up, his mouth opening slightly. Frank looked at him, his eyes black in the night of the bank.   
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"I have no idea," Ezra replied. "I've been with you, remember?"  
  
In two steps, Frank had rounded the corner and grabbed Ezra by the front of his shirt. "Who is it!"  
  
"Maybe someone saw us," Ezra tried weakly. "I can't...I don't...."  
  
"Remember the deal, gambler! Anything happens to us, and that boy dies, you hear me? You will help us get out of here!"  
  
"How? I don't have a gun," Ezra replied darkly.  
  
Frank glowered at him, then shoved him back into the wall. Grabbing the saddlebags that Ezra had filled, he threw one set over his shoulder an tossed the other to Chet. Then he gestured that Ezra should open the door and be the first to walk out.   
  
"Talk to whoever is out there. Explain to them the situation."  
  
Ezra swallowed, nodding. He walked to the door and opened it slowly. He took two steps out onto the boardwalk and stood facing the alley across the way.  
  
"Buck," he called to the seemingly empty street, "if that is you, you have to let these men with me go. If you don't, JD's life is forfeit."   
  
No one answered.   
  
Ezra turned to look back into the jail, where Frank and Chet had rifles trained on him, though they themselves remained hidden from anyone outside the jail. This was not a good position. Frank shook his head, and cocked the rifle.  
  
"Um..." Ezra shut his eyes and turned once more to the street. "Please, Buck. They have JD. If they do not return to where they have him hidden, the men there will kill him."  
  
"Are you so sure we can not get to JD before that happens, and save him?" Buck's voice called. Ezra kept his eyes trained on the alley, as the voice had come from that direction.  
  
"Starting as soon as it became fully dark, the two men guarding him are supposed to be on strict rotation, watching the valley that leads up to the place where they have him. They expect three riders to be coming back and Frank worked out a special signal to alert them of our return that he did not tell me. If that signal is not given, the man called Paisley has orders to take a knife to JD."  
  
"And how do you know JD is not already dead," Buck's voice asked again.  
  
Ezra shivered, "I don't," he replied dejectedly. His shoulders slumped slightly in his jacket.  
  
Buck didn't reply to the admission, and the silence on the street began to grow long.  
  
"Gambler!" Frank hissed. Ezra jerked, as if he'd been asleep. He licked his lips and took in another deep breath.  
  
"Buck, will you let us go? I need to know!"  
  
"I'll let you go," Buck replied, stepping out from the shadows of the alleyway. The tall man put his rifle down and backed up. Ezra nodded at him.  
  
"Well done," Frank grinned. Chet stepped out the bank first, the saddlebags on his shoulders and his gun now pointed at the unarmed Buck. Frank followed just behind, and placed his gun against the back of the gambler's head.  
  
"We'll be leaving now, Buck," Frank smiled. "Thank you for your cooperation."  
  
"No!" Inez yelled, pushing out the batwing doors to the saloon. She still wore her new dress, but there was now a rifle in her hand. "You let him go!" she demanded, raising the rifle up.  
  
"Well, well, who is this?" Frank chuckled. Ezra stiffened, shaking his head in her direction.  
  
"Inez, no, not like that," Buck hissed, taking a step towards here, his hands raised. Inez ignored him, trying to get around him.  
  
"You let him go! You can't have him, you understand? He's mine!" She took several more steps forward, and before Buck could reach her, she shot wildly in the direction of the bank, causing all three men to duck quickly to the ground as it went over their heads.  
  
"Inez, NO!" Ezra yelled, rolling to the side. Chet bounced up first and took aim, not caring that Buck had reached Inez and was wrestling with her for the gun. With a roar, Ezra jumped him, knocking the rifle from his hand and slamming the grizzled man into the sidewalk with a force strong enough to knock him out. Grabbing the rifle, he spun to turn it on Frank.  
  
The younger outlaw, meanwhile, had also gathered himself up, but instead of raising his rifle, he raised a hand at the gambler.  
  
"I wouldn't," Frank hissed. "One move towards me, and that boy is dead, remember?" He bared his teeth in a gruesome smile, the perfectly straight whites seeming to Ezra as ugly as Chet's hideous grin. The gambler's hands shook, his whole body demanding he take this insolent bastard. Frank's smile turned into a smirk as he watched Ezra falter.  
  
In the background, the low rumble of hooves racing into town could be heard, the almost indiscernible sound existing just below the harsh breathing of the two men.   
  
Slowly, Ezra uncocked the rifle and placed it on the ground, then stood with his hands out from his sides. Inez whimpered, holding onto Buck's lapels as he held her rifle away from her.   
  
"Good choice," Frank nodded at the gambler.   
  
On the ground, Chet groaned, waking up.   
  
Back in the alley, hidden deep in the shadows, Chris held his gun pointed at the handsome outlaw, waiting. Where the hell was Vin? If he had failed....Chris tried not to think about it. Instead, he poured all his focus onto watching the two men facing each other on the boardwalk before the bank.  
  
"Time to go, Ezra," Frank said quietly, relishing in his power over the gambler. "Help Chet to his feet, and we'll go to the horses. Understood?"   
  
Ezra lowered his eyes, his hands once more falling to his sides. Slowly, he reached down to gather up the slowly wakening outlaw.  
  
The hoof beats got louder, until they couldn't be ignored. Ezra was already facing the right direction, but Frank had to turn.   
  
In that split second, a massive dimpled grin creased Ezra's face.  
  
Frank never even knew what happened. In less time than it takes a peregrine falcon to grab its prey, Ezra picked up the dropped rifle and, with a satisfied shout, smashed the butt across the back of Frank's head. The outlaw crumbled to the ground, completely unaware of when or how he had lost his advantage. Then, when Chet groaned again a moment later, the gambler pivoted around and smacked him as well.   
  
"Understand that, you miserable, cretinous, foul smelling degenerates!" Ezra finished, throwing the rifle to the side.  
  
"Yee Ha!" Buck yelled, raising Inez's rifle in the air. At the same time, the two incoming riders scrambled to a stop in front of the bank.  
  
"Hey! I wanted to be the one to take them down!" JD laughed, pulling up hard on the rented horse's reins. Ezra grinned up at the boy, relief shining from his face.   
  
"Mr. Dunne! Never sell that hat!" the gambler replied quickly, earning a slightly confused look from the kid. Before he had even seen JD, Ezra had seen the shape of that damn bowler on the young man's head as he and Vin rode up - and it was a wonderful sight to see! Still smiling, Ezra looked at Vin and nodded his thanks. The tracker nodded back.  
  
"I admit, the clothes you and Ezra wear are useful at times," Chris agreed, stepping out of the shadows and holstering his guns. "You all right JD?"   
  
"Better than I was a few hours ago," the kid laughed, "eh, Ezra?" But the gambler had already stepped off the boardwalk, his eyes on Inez. She was arguing with Buck, trying to get her rifle back, but Buck was holding it out of arm's reach.   
  
"That wasn't what I meant by a distraction!" the ladies man was chastising, holding her arm.  
  
"I did my best!" she said back, "When I saw that man with a gun to his head I..." she stopped, suddenly aware that they were being watched. She turned slowly, her eyes instantly falling on the frosty green ones staring at her from a few feet away.  
  
"Quite a distraction," the gambler said to her quietly, not noticing that everyone else had also gone quiet. Vin sent a questioning gaze to JD, but the kid just shook his head. Buck, who had still been holding her arm, let go and backed away, his eyes staring at the ground. It was as much an apology as anything. Inez frowned nervously at Ezra.  
  
"They said they needed a distraction, and since Josiah and Nathan couldn't leave the clinic...Buck asked me," she said. "He told me that I should try to think of a way to delay you from leaving...to give Vin enough time to rescue JD and bring him here so that you would know he was safe."  
  
Ezra offered a lopsided grin and shook his head, "And he said to use the bar's rifle?"  
  
"No...actually, he asked me not to bring a gun, in case they got the wrong idea and tried to shoot me. But I...I was scared for you. I was afraid my words wouldn't be enough."  
  
"Nearly got us killed," Buck groused in a low rumble. Inez glanced at him, her face apologetic.  
  
"Yes, I realize. The more I think on it...I'm sorry," she lowered her head, her fingers playing at the folds of the dress. Ever since she had put it on, she's been acting such a fool. "But once I made the decision to use it...I couldn't...and then everything happened so fast, and all I could think to do was hope that...."  
  
"We got lucky," Ezra finished quietly, stepping up close to her. She looked up, her eyes bright in the moonlight, and, after measuring his words, she nodded. Gently, he touched his fingers to her chin, tipping her head up.  
  
"You know, querido, this was a very good day for luck," he whispered...right before touching his lips to hers.  
  
In the background, Buck sighed. After a moment, he even smiled.  
________________________________  
  
And last, a little Epilogue.....  



	5. Epilogue

Demons and Lovers (Or the Devil's Luck)  
  
Epilogue  
__________________________________________  
  
Ezra took in a deep breath and adjusted the cravat around his neck for a third time in the mirror. Behind him, sitting on the edge of his bed, Buck, Vin and JD watched with great amusement.  
  
"So how long before Inez figures out what a snob Ezra is?" Vin asked the others, his voice loud. Ezra threw him a glare.  
  
"Oh, I'd say a week." Buck grinned.  
  
"You think they'll last that long?" JD asked.  
  
"I don't know. I saw her sell that dress to that new seamstress yesterday, and I don't think she plans on ever buying another like it," Vin noted sagely. "I'm not sure our Ez can be happy with a woman who doesn't own something at least as frilly as the stuff he wears."  
  
"He could always lend her some of his own clothes," JD piped up.  
  
"Or maybe Maude could send her some things," Buck whispered. Standing by the mirror, Ezra shivered at the thought. Vin caught the reaction and laughed.  
  
"I think maybe we're being a bit hard on him, Buck," the tracker said. "After all, it is his first official dinner date with the lady in question."  
  
"Think it'll go well?" Buck replied, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"I don't know, what do you think JD?"  
  
"Oh, I think he's got a fighting chance. Ezra does like to go down swinging after all."  
  
"Gentlemen, please..." Ezra was getting tired of the ribbing. All he'd wanted was to get Josiah's opinion on what to wear, but instead he got waylaid on his way to the clinic by this town's version of the three Furies. They'd steered him home with promises of sincerity before he'd even reached the clinic stairs.   
  
"A fighting chance, you say. Well, with Inez, a fight is probably where they'll end up. You ask me, they are too darn competitive about this saloon," Buck said, ignoring Ezra's warning tone.  
  
"Competitive? Did you hear what he said to her last time she forgot to order his fancy scotch? I thought they were going to start a brawl! In fact, I would of wagered that she'd kick his keister all the way to Virginia she was so mad," JD said brightly.  
  
"Gentlemen!"  
  
"But then, what's that saying about lovers and fighters?" Vin asked, tapping his finger on his chin. JD grinned.  
  
"What, that fighters make the best lovers?"   
  
"Oh, I'll vouch for that!" Buck agreed. "Hell, that one I know from experience. But as to Ezra's fighting stature, I gotta say boys, it pales next to mine. He's not so much a fighter as..."  
  
"...a double dealer?" JD suggested innocently. Ezra's eyes widened.  
  
"Gentlemen! I take offense..."  
  
"And a a swindler, cheater, rogue and devil," Vin agreed, nodding. Ezra's face reddened, his hands clenching into fists.  
  
"Gentlemen! I am most certainly not going to listen..."  
  
"Ah, but he's ours," Buck grinned, looking directly at Ezra for the first time, his voice softening. "And he looks pretty damn good for a popinjay."  
  
This shut Ezra up. Suddenly self-conscious, he frowned and looked down at the brushed dark blue suit and matching silver vest. He smoothed down a crease on the vest near the right pocket, feeling the money tucked in there and the slight stiffness of the metal pick sewed, once again, into the lining.   
  
"Yeah, you look good Ez," JD said quietly. "Real good."  
  
"Do you...gentlemen...do you really believe that we will only last a week?" The gambler continued to stare downwards, not meeting anyone's eyes.  
  
"Hell no," Vin said solemnly, standing up to pat Ezra on the back. "I got money in the pool says you're going to last at least two!"  
_________________________________________  
  
The End...sort of  
  
(I place no wagers on how long Ezra and Inez will last...we'll just have to see, won't we?)   
  
And look Mariana, no one died! Not even a baddie! Aren't you proud of me? bg  



End file.
